


Cutthroats, Villains and Scoundrels

by ransomdrysdale, SpecialHell



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Not) Another Stucky Big Bang 2020, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Multi, Mythological Elements, Period-Typical Language, Pirates, Read warnings in chapter notes, antagonists to friends to lovers, implied polyamory, not historically accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ransomdrysdale/pseuds/ransomdrysdale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecialHell/pseuds/SpecialHell
Summary: Pirate Captain James Barnes gets more than he bargained for when he takes prisoner Steve Rogers into his protection. The Captain is far from what Steve was expecting. Will the voyage to Wakanda (and some meddling from James' friend Sam Wilson) push them closer together?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, M'Baku/Sam Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S HERE!!
> 
> I need to thank my wonderful beta readers Chim and Sierra for putting up with me, as well as Jen and Noelle - my amazing artists!
> 
> Specific chapter warnings will be in the top notes, so be sure to check if you're concerned about anything. 
> 
> Chapter 1 has a mention of attempted rape of a minor in dialogue only.

The cannons had fallen silent and the smoke from the gunpowder was beginning to clear when Captain Barnes crossed the gangplank back over to his own ship. The Winter Soldier had a few splintered boards, but was holding strong as ever. Barnes nodded briefly to Thor -his quartermaster- as the tall blond moved to the railings to begin receiving the new additions from their most recent quarry. The background hum of conversation -understandably strained in places- washed over Barnes as he took his place next to the helm. It was mere moments before the space to his right was filled, and Barnes looked over to his first mate: Natasha. She gave a small nod of her head, indicating that everything was running smoothly, and the captain returned the gesture in acknowledgement. 

It wasn’t long before silence began to settle in. The crew was back at their various posts, or standing guard where needed, and the new additions were lined up at the railing. Some faces betrayed fear, while others looked tired, and one or two even looked bored. When it appeared that everyone was where they planned to stay, Captain Barnes stepped forward. All eyes were immediately on him as he began to speak. 

“Some of you may know my name; others may not. It does not matter in any case. The only thing any of you cares about right now is knowing what comes next. Please, be at ease, and understand that no harm will come to you aboard this ship.”

A soft muttering tittered around the captive audience, as it always seemed to do, and Barnes waited for it to die down. His attention turned to Thor for his next words.

“Mr. Odinson, do you have a roster?”

Thor - ever cheerful and adept at setting minds at rest - gave a smile and stepped forward. 

“Yes, Captain. We have,” Thor swept his arm out towards the leftmost of the group. “Nine crew members, of which most are still deciding their position.” Barnes nodded for Thor to continue. This time he indicated to the middle group of men and women. “Six passengers, for whom this vessel was merely the cheapest option to get them to the colonies.” The passengers in question looked nervous, but the captain moved on quickly. Thor next presented two women who were standing off to the right together. “And finally, two whores, in service of the ship.”

“Willingly?” Barnes asked. One of the women - she appeared to be the youngest and had bright red hair - shrank into the other’s side - a tall thin brunette with angular features. The brunette turned to fully face Barnes before she spoke.

“My companion is not suited for this life. I would rather she was not involved in the negotiations.”

It took Barnes a second to understand, but he shook his head when he did. “You misunderstand, miss. You’ll not be expected to work aboard this ship. If, however, you find the life of a courtesan suits you, then I know of a place where you can utilise your talents for a good mistress, and make plenty of coin for yourself.”

It took the woman a moment to consider if Barnes was trustworthy, but a demure tilt of her head was enough to confirm her interest. 

“Mr. Odinson will handle all the arrangements closer to port.”

Captain Barnes was about to continue speaking when a commotion from the taken ship caught everyone’s attention. Natasha sprang to action, making it to the railing as two crew members emerged, each dragging along with them a passenger. Rumlow and Rollins were easily identifiable as they crossed the gangplank with their captives in tow. Rollins held the arm of a young man - barely more than a boy in truth - who was silent and scared as he let himself be led. The man Rumlow held was the complete opposite. Shorter than the other three, Rumlow had the man’s arm pinned behind his back and controlled his head with a rough hand in his hair, but still the wiry blond was struggling and spitting insults. He was striking, and it took Barnes a moment to refocus his mind. Luckily Natasha had already received the group onto the ship.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked firmly. Rollins and the boy he held both looked fearful at the displeasure in Natasha’s expression. Rumlow merely sneered, and the man in his grasp was too busy struggling to pay much attention. Barnes cast a quick glance over to the assembled people and noted the unease at the unfolding scene. 

“Release them,” Barnes ordered. Rollins let go of the boy’s arm, while Rumlow instead chose to push the blond man to the ground. “Explain,” Barnes next demanded. “Quickly.”

“Sitwell is dead,” Rumlow growled, pointing to the man who had pushed himself up to his knees but no further. “This rat stabbed him in the back.” 

Barnes looked down at the man, who met his eyes without fear. His chin tilted up in defiance. 

“What’s your name?” 

The question seemed to momentarily derail the man’s ire. A small crease formed between his brows, but he answered “Rogers.”

“Well Mr. Rogers,” Barnes continued to keep eye contact. “Is what Mr. Rumlow says true? Did you stab Jasper Sitwell in the back?”

“Yes.”

Where previously silence had reigned, now gasps and hushed exclamations circulated. Rumlow moved towards Rogers again, but he was stopped by the young man, who placed himself between the two men and looked at the captain imploringly. 

“Please, Captain, you don’t understand.”

“You know this man?” Barnes asked, raising a hand to still Rumlow’s movements. It was clear Rumlow wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t going to disobey in front of everyone. 

“Not before today, but Captain Barnes, I must speak in his defense.”

“You know me?” Barnes asked, and the small smile the question garnered confused him.

“Everyone knows Captain James Barnes. They call you the Gentleman Pirate. You don’t hurt those who don’t deserve it and you only take ships whose owners have done wrong in your eyes.”

Barnes looked over to Natasha for a short second. He mouthed ‘Gentleman?’ as she attempted to stifle her laughter. 

“You have me at a disadvantage,” Barnes turned attention back to the boy. “You know me, but I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Peter,” the boy replied. “Peter Parker.”

“Well, Mr. Parker. You have the floor. What defense do you offer for Mr. Rogers?”

“You’re not really going to listen to this?!” Rumlow interrupted. Barnes shot him a sharp look.

“Were you present when the killing occurred?” He directed the question towards Peter, but it was clear he also meant it to silence Rumlow. 

“Yes sir.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I was below deck. I don’t know how to fight, I’m just the steward, and so I tried to hide. Your man found me.”

“You mean Sitwell?” Barnes clarified, and Peter nodded. 

“I held up my hands and told him I was unarmed. I explained I don’t fight. I thought he would just bring me over here. That seemed to be what everyone else was doing.”

Barnes’ jaw clenched. He didn’t like where this was going. Still, he gave Peter a nod to continue. Looking around, Peter hesitated. Natasha moved before Barnes could direct her. She stepped up besides Peter and took his elbow. They looked at one another, and when it was clear that Natasha wasn’t trying to move him, Peter took a breath and continued.   
“He grabbed me. He said he wanted to take his time with me, while everyone else was busy. I struggled, but he got me over a table, and then the door opened. I couldn’t see anything. Sitwell just yelled ‘not now’ and kept going. I guess he assumed it was one of his friends, but then he screamed and let me go. I turned around and he was on the floor.” Peter next gestured to Rogers. “He saved me. But then your other men found us.” 

Barnes’ eyes found Rumlow and he snarled. “Did you know of this?”

“No!” Rumlow’s eyes were wide. “Of course not! Still, I don’t see how it changes the facts. He has to pay for what he did.”

“How old are you, Peter?” Barnes asked instead of answering Rumlow.

“Fourteen, sir. This is my first voyage as steward.”

“You have family?”

“No sir.”

Barnes nodded, ending the conversation, and Natasha gently moved Peter off to the side with her. Barnes stepped closer to Rogers, who was still kneeling. 

“On your feet.” Rogers complied, still angry, holding Barnes’ eyes throughout. Barnes could feel the weight of all the ship’s eyes on him. “Do you have anything to say?” Rogers’ only reply was a sneer, and Barnes had to force himself not to smile at the spirit of the man. “Very well. It is my judgement that your actions were intended to save Mr. Parker, and that the objective was not murder. Having said that, you did kill Mr. Sitwell, which you have openly admitted today, and so you owe a debt. You will remain aboard and serve that debt until I have deemed it paid in full. Do you understand?” 

“That is not acceptable,” Rumlow interrupted. “I demand he be handed over to myself and Rollins immediately. He killed our brother and I will see him punished!”

“Maybe if your _brother_ hadn’t been too busy trying to fuck a child, he wouldn’t have been stabbed in the back by a man whose head barely reaches my shoulder.” Barnes’ voice was steady, even dismissive, but there was rage in his eyes. Rumlow looked for a moment as if he would continue to argue, but thought better of it, and instead glared at the back of Rogers’ head. When Barnes turned his attention back to Rogers, there was something akin to admiration mixed in with the defiance.  
“You will be taken to my quarters, where you will remain unless instructed otherwise by me only.” Rogers still wasn’t speaking, but he gave a single nod of his head to confirm he understood. Barnes turned his attention back to the ship at large.  
“All crew dismissed. Mr. Odinson will assign our guests to quarters,” as the sound of people moving grew louder, Barnes spoke to Peter. “You’ll stay with Miss Romanoff, ok?” Peter nodded, and Barnes gave Natasha a head tilt that acted both as thanks and dismissal. Natasha led Peter away, leaving Barnes and Rogers standing on deck. Barnes took one more look around to ensure things were running smoothly, before turning on his heel and heading for his quarters; trusting that Rogers would follow.

* * *

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! Be sure to check out the awesome RansomDrysdale's Podfic of the story at<https://www.spreaker.com/user/ransomdrysdale/cutthroats-chap-1>_


	2. Chapter 2

Barnes stepped aside when they arrived at his quarters, allowing Rogers to enter the room and look around. They hadn’t spoken since Barnes had proclaimed his ‘verdict' in front of the crew. Upon hearing the door close, Rogers turned to face Barnes. 

“What happens now?” Rogers asked, still holding himself upright and defiant, but with a new glimmer of concern in his eyes. 

“I will have Mr. Odinson bring your things here once he has everyone settled below. My accountant Miss Hill will be arriving shortly to go over the books, and soon after I will begin receiving those with questions or concerns.” Barnes hadn’t moved from the door, and Rogers was pinned by his unwavering gaze. 

“That may be all well and good for you, Mr. Barnes,”

“Captain,” Barnes corrected lightly, but he knew from the mean smirk playing around Rogers’ lips that it had been deliberate.

“However,” Rogers continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’m rather more concerned about what you intend to do with me.”

Barnes looked around the cabin, waving his hand in gesture as he spoke. “I have books, should you wish to read - I assume you’re able?” Rogers only nodded in reply. “The bed is there, the wash basin is here, and the desk will double as a dining table.”

Rogers looked unsatisfied with these answers, but Barnes paid him no mind as he began readying himself for the rest of the day. He removed his hat and laid it down on the hammock by the door, before moving to tidy up the aforementioned desk. Hill was never shy about berating him for the mess he made while charting courses, and Barnes didn’t want to hear it today. As Barnes finally sat behind the desk, he noticed that Rogers hadn’t moved at all. 

“You may as well sit down,” Barnes offered. “Neither of us will be going anywhere tonight. The bed is comfortable, I assure you.”

“And I can assure you that I will not be sharing that or any other bed with you, Mr. Barnes.” Rogers spat back, the anger and contempt from before roaring back to life. Barnes could only laugh. This seemed to offend his unexpected guest even more. 

“Sit on the bench if you prefer,” Barnes pointed towards the fabric covered bench fitted into the wall. “The bed is very rarely slept in - I receive plenty of lectures over that fact - but if you wish to sleep on the bench or the floor, I won’t stop you.” 

Rogers looked shocked at Barnes’ handling of the situation. No doubt he was expecting a violent reaction: be that in word or deed. Without another word, Rogers moved to the bench and sat down. Only when he appeared to have fully calmed down did Barnes speak again.

“By the way, Mr. Rogers, it’s  _ Captain _ Barnes. The fact that I am the Captain is what has allowed me to stow you safely away in these quarters. It is what has kept you from enduring the sadistic whims of Brock Rumlow and his ilk. I would appreciate the small respect of this title, if you insist on using an appellative.”

There was silence for a long moment. Rogers appeared to be chastised by Barnes’ words. Just as Barnes was turning away to refocus on his work, Rogers spoke:

“Steve.”  
Barnes turned back to see Rogers looking at him, this time with no bravado or disdain.   
“My name is Steven, I prefer to be called Steve. If we are to be sharing this space, I would rather it to ‘Mr. Rogers’.”

“Very well, Steve,” Barnes’ lip quirked in a half-smile. Steve’s expression cleared at the sight, and although Barnes would have liked to see him smile, it was enough for now.

~

Steve couldn’t be sure how much time had passed, as he sat looking pensively from the cabin window. Behind him, Barnes had finished squaring away his space, had removed his long coat, and was now reading the manifest from the ship he had just conquered. A rapping at the door drew both men’s attention, and Barnes called out “Enter.”

The door swung open to reveal Thor Odinson, a cheerful expression on his face and an old leather trunk in his hands. 

“Greetings.” Thor was smiling towards Steve as he spoke. A quick glance to Barnes showed no consternation at being overlooked so easily. “I believe this is yours?” Steve stood as Thor placed the trunk down at the only side of the bed that wasn’t built into the room’s walls. 

Steve went to his knees and opened the trunk, carefully inspecting his belongings before turning his face towards Thor and offering a tight smile. “Thank you.” Thor simply directed that beaming smile down at him, before stepping away to speak to the Captain. 

“All souls and property are aboard and squared away,” Thor’s voice was still chipper as ever, but now held an air of professionalism as he relayed the information. 

“Good, thank you,” Barnes spared a smile towards Thor as he stood up and moved around the desk. “Untether us and burn it, Mr. Quartermaster.”

“Aye aye,” Thor dipped his head and left without further conversation. 

Barnes turned to Steve when the weight of the smaller man’s eyes became too much.

“Burn it?” Steve asked, taking his prompt from the expectant look on Barnes’ face. “Why?”

“I don’t make a habit of leaving slavers’ ships intact,” Barnes replied simply. Steve’s eyes grew wide, and Barnes tilted his head. “You didn’t know?”

“It was just cheap transport,” Steve explained, his voice suddenly small. “I didn’t see any…”

“There was no human cargo this time,” Barnes said - unsure why he was so eager to set Steve’s mind at ease when the man had shown nothing but contempt towards him. “But that ship, its captain and crew, and those they all worked for, profit from the bondage of the innocent. I won’t let that stand.” 

Steve, who had pushed himself from kneeling to sit atop his trunk as Barnes spoke, favoured the Captain with a soft, genuine smile. “I must say, you are rising in my estimations by the hour.”

Barnes’ response was not forthcoming, as someone was once again knocking on the door. Barnes bade them to enter.

Maria Hill walked into the room with a ledger under one arm. Without preamble she set the ledger down on the table and took Barnes’ seat. 

“We lost four men today. Mr. Ward, Mr. Campbell, Mr. Sitwell, and Mr. Keller.” She flipped open the ledger, and Barnes leaned on the desk to look. “None had family or were attached to anyone aboard or ashore.”

“Give Sitwell’s share to Rumlow,” Barnes instructed. “I know he plans to captain his own ship after we have docked and settled the proceeds of this venture. Perhaps the extra money will soothe his ego enough to allow a more amicable parting.” 

Hill noted this down. “Of the nineteen we brought aboard, we have two extra mouths in the forms of Mr. Parker and Mr. Rogers.”

“Peter can be marked down as an apprentice. Allot him a half-share for now. He’s too young to need money for wine and women.” 

Hill’s responding snort made Barnes shake his head, a soft chuckle escaping. “Seventeen souls remain undecided. Thor tells me the whores will likely join Stark’s house when we dock. The other guests and crew are still weighing their options. All have been reunited with their belongings, and I have budgeted for a small stipend to any that wish to barter passage home from port.” 

“That all seems quite fair,” Barnes nodded. “Do we have an estimate on the cargo?”

“Can’t say for sure just yet, but I’d wager it’ll be enough to cover our costs, and get us supplies to head back. We appear to be on schedule.”

Barnes nodded, in agreement or approval, Steve wasn’t sure. It felt intrusive to ask where they were going, or where ‘back’ was. After a few moments more of quiet consultation, Hill closed the ledger and stood up.

“Mr. Banner wanted me to relay a message,” Hill was smirking as she spoke, and Barnes’ exaggerated groan had Steve suppressing a laugh. “He has prepared your favourite for dinner, and he expects you to eat it, and I quote ‘sitting down at a damn table with actual human company’ - Natasha was present at the time, and so you will be receiving both her and young Mr. Parker shortly. I would suggest clearing up the table, and perhaps tying up your hair?” 

Barnes was outright smiling by now, and Steve felt strange at witnessing it. Barnes’ face lit up, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly he looked younger . Steve remained silent as Hill leaned up and pressed a kiss to Barnes’ cheek. 

“Enjoy your dinner, and try to get some sleep tonight, ok? Business can wait until tomorrow.” Barnes’ response was a single nod, and Hill nodded in return before leaving the room. Barnes’ attention turned back to Steve as soon as the door closed. 

“It appears we are to have company for dinner,” Barnes was still smiling, although it wasn’t as bright as it had been with Hill.

“I suppose I should change,” Steve responded, but his own tentative smile fell when he realised there was nowhere that could be considered private in the cabin. It appeared that Barnes had the same thought, as he cleared his throat and turned towards the door. 

“I have to speak to Thor. I should be back before dusk.”

Steve didn’t know what to say, but Barnes didn’t wait for a reply. He strode out of the room, and Steve heard the click of the lock. In his mind he knew it was for his benefit - to keep Rumlow and his friends at bay. That didn’t stop Steve’s heart sinking at the reality of his situation. There was no telling how long he would be locked away here before Barnes or his crew members considered his ‘debt’ fulfilled. Steve still didn’t know what he was expected to do - it seemed clear Barnes hadn’t taken him for sex or to beat him. If Steve were a little more optimistic, he could even imagine that the whole thing was a ruse designed to deceive Rumlow; but Steve was far too cynical to believe that. Surely he could be just as protected if he were associating with Thor, or Natasha? Everyone aboard seemed quite formidable, and it made little sense to Steve that his only chance of safety was to remain sequestered away with the Captain. 

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Steve began searching for clean clothes. There was no point dwelling on his situation; especially on the first night. Barnes would tip his hand soon enough, and when Steve knew what was truly going on he could make his plans. Until then, a civilised dinner actually sounded quite nice.


	3. Chapter 3

Barnes found Thor in the hold. Now that everyone had been reunited with their personal items, Thor was stacking up the spoils from their hunt. He turned when Barnes’ footsteps caused the floorboards to creak, and a smile immediately split his face. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?” Thor grinned, and Barnes couldn’t stop his own face from splitting into a similar smile. 

“Bruce has decided I need to eat a meal with friends for a change,” Barnes shook his head as he spoke but it was good-natured. “Natasha is coming, and she’s bringing Peter. Would you care to join us?” 

“I would love to, but I cannot tonight. Our new guests are still unmoored by the events of the day. My presence below decks will be needed to calm rattled nerves and soothe sore egos.”

“Fair enough,” Barnes gave a short nod. Unlike other captains, he was never insulted by his crew refusing him anything. He hired free spirited pirates who could form their own opinions and handle themselves - he didn’t expect blind obedience from anyone. 

“I’ll drop in for a nightcap later,” Thor was now finished organising the hold, and he reached out to squeeze Barnes’ shoulder. “I know you still have some of that good brandy left.”

Barnes’ surprised laugh was punched out of him by the words, and Thor joined in. Barnes placed his hand over Thor’s own on his shoulder for a second and gave it a friendly squeeze. 

“I’m looking forward to it already.”

~

True to his word, Steve heard Barnes unlocking the door to the cabin just as the sun began to set. While he’d been gone, Steve had changed his clothes and tidied away his belongings - the chest that held all his things fit comfortably underneath the bed. He was now sitting on the bench, watching the cadence of the sea around them. Steve turned his head when the door opened, and Barnes offered him a tentative smile. Despite himself, Steve was beginning to warm to Barnes, and so he returned the small gesture with a tight smile of his own. 

“Natasha and Peter will be here soon,” Barnes spoke once the door was closed securely behind him. He approached the desk and began to reposition it as he continued to speak. “Peter was heading towards the galley as I was returning.”

Steve made a move towards helping when he realised Barnes was setting up for dinner. Barnes simply shook his head, and instead nodded towards a wooden chest beside the bookshelf. 

“You’ll find a bottle of wine and some cups in there. Grab them, please?”

For a second Steve was shocked to stillness by Barnes’ polite request. Surely there was no need for the captain of a ship to say ‘please’ to anyone? His momentary inaction was either overlooked or ignored by Barnes, who continued his own task. Steve gave himself a mental shake, and retrieved the requested items. There was also a set of silver-coloured candlesticks in the chest and, on a whim, Steve pulled them out along with two short ivory candles. When he turned with all the items in his arms, Barnes was waiting next to the table, which was now more centrally located in the room. Steve stepped forward and put all the items on the table before arranging them appropriately. When he chanced a glance towards Barnes, the look being directed at him could almost have been called fond. Steve didn’t have time to react, as there was a knock at the door. Instead of calling out, this time Barnes went to the door and opened it. 

Natasha and Peter entered, each holding two metal plates filled with food. Barnes moved aside to let them put the plates down, before receiving Natasha’s hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“Good evening James,” she turned to Steve. “Mr. Rogers.”

“Steve, please,” came the reply, and Natasha nodded her understanding. Even if it wasn’t genuine, Steve had every intention of remaining civil tonight. If nothing else, Peter was here and the young man was responsible for saving Steve’s life. 

“Hi Steve,” Peter’s own enthusiasm appeared genuine. Steve nodded in return. Peter turned towards Barnes but seemed to falter.

“It’s James,” Barnes gave Peter a small smile. “No need for formalities at dinner.”

“Does that extend to us all?” Steve spoke up, seemingly unable to stop trying to get a rise from Barnes. 

“Of course,” Barnes - James - said with a gracious tilt of his head. Steve swallowed thickly but didn’t take up the unspoken offer to voice the new, informal name. Instead, he took a seat at the table. The others followed along, and Natasha pulled a pack of matches from somewhere to light the candles. James picked up the bottle of wine before looking at Peter.   
“Have you had Spanish wine before?” 

“Um, no I don’t think so,” Peter blushed and averted his eyes. “I’ve had beer before, but just the watered down kind they give to servants.”

James didn’t comment further, instead he nodded and poured a small amount into one of the tankards. He handed it to Peter with the soft command of “Sip it.”

Peter nodded and took a testing sip before placing the cup down. James poured a healthy amount of the wine into the remaining three cups and handed them out to the adults in the room. Steve gave a small nod of thanks, and his eyes finally fell on the meal before him. Suddenly he was ravenous. There was a thick stew of cured beef and potatoes, with flecks of herbs that Steve didn’t care to identify in the moment. His eyes flicked quickly towards James and then Natasha, before he reached for his spoon. Peter seemed similarly hesitant, and Natasha gave him an encouraging smile. 

“Don’t stand on ceremony for us. You must be famished.”

That was enough to spur both men to action, and they began to eat the food before them with gusto. James picked up his own spoon and began eating at a more leisurely pace. Natasha took a drink of her wine before turning her head towards James to speak. 

“I presume all is in hand for the journey back?”

“Almost,” James answered after swallowing his mouthful. “I still need to speak to our new additions tomorrow. Some may stay on, but others will want to go home to their families. We’ll need to distribute allowances for passage to those who want to leave at port. Other than that, everything is fine.”

Natasha looked briefly towards Steve, who was watching the exchange even as he ate. James followed her gaze before their eyes remet and Natasha asked “And these two?” 

James put his spoon down and took a sip of his wine. Steve and Peter both stopped eating at the question. All attention turned to James. 

“I hope to be rid of Rumlow, Rollins, and a few others when we reach port. Thor tells me that Rumlow has been speaking of starting his own crew for some time. Sitwell’s share will be given to them. Rumlow should be able to chart his own ship. I would prefer both of you to stay aboard so that you aren’t left unprotected on the island with them. After that, you’ll both be free to do as you wish.” 

“Seems a clear plan,” Natasha agreed. 

“Um, Captain, I mean, James?” Peter spoke up. James tilted his head - a prompt for Peter to speak. “Can I… I mean, when it’s all done… Is there room aboard for me to stay?”

“Of course, Peter,” James smiled. “You only have to stay with Natasha for as long as Rumlow and his friends are here. Once we leave them behind, you can move into the crew space and make yourself at home. Have you thought about what you’d like to do here?”

“Oh, um… well, I am good at climbing. I’m sure I could learn to rig?”

“Oh, Clint will love him!” Natasha spoke with laughter in her voice. James nodded his agreement. Peter didn’t press for information. Steve, for his part, didn’t know what to say. James had just laid his future out before him. Stay here until Rumlow is gone, and then he can go wherever he wants. Was James truly just keeping him here to fool the more merciless among his crew? Steve was hesitant to ask outright, and instead turned his attention to Peter.

“You said you don’t have a family, Peter?” 

“No,” Peter responded after taking another small taste of his wine. “My parents died when I was very young. I was raised by my uncle, but he too died this past year. His wife had to take another husband to support herself, and he didn’t like me very much.”

“So you decided to join a ship’s crew?” Steve prompted. “Make your fortune?”

Peter laughed at that. “Maybe not my fortune exactly, but I hoped to earn a living. I boarded the first ship that would have me. Some may think that foolish, but…” Peter looked around the table. “I believe in fate.” 

Nobody quite knew what to say to that, and after a moment’s silence, Peter cleared his throat. 

“And you, Steve? You have no family to go home to?” 

Steve gave Peter a sad smile and shook his head. “My mother died when I was your age. My father was never there - he died at war. I’ve been alone these past ten years. I finally saved enough money to try for a new life elsewhere, and… well, as you said: fate intervened.” 

“Forgive me if it sounds disrespectful,” Peter’s voice was almost a whisper, as if he feared reprisals before he even spoke. “But I’m thankful the gods brought you to me. Without your presence, I…”

“It’s ok, Peter,” Steve reached out and gave Peter’s wrist a brief squeeze. “I’m glad I was there to protect you.” 

The smile Peter gave in return for Steve’s words almost broke his heart. How long had it been since anyone had shown this boy a drop of kindness?

“Did you study?” Natasha asked, drawing the men’s attention. “Before your uncle died?”

“Some,” Peter replied, as Steve subtly removed his hand from the boy’s arm. “I can read and write, but I don’t do so well with numbers. I know my kings and a little of the world’s map.”

“That’s a fair sight more than most of the crew,” James chuckled. “Give it a few years and you’ll be a captain yourself.” 

Peter blushed and ducked his head at the compliment. “I could never be as brave as you,” he murmured. 

“Brave? Me?” James outright laughed now, and Natasha was wearing a wry smirk. Peter’s gaze shot back to James, as if he was offended on the captain’s behalf. 

“Stories of your exploits are told the world over. How you’ve saved and liberated so many souls. You’ve faced down kings and their armies in the name of freedom. How you lost your-” Peter closed his mouth, eyes wide at his own insolence; fear draining the colour from his face. 

“My arm?” James prompted, raising his left hand to properly showcase the shining black of his substitute. Steve hadn’t remarked on it up to now - propriety overriding even his desire to rile up the captain. “Tell me, what are the stories of how I lost it? I’m sure there’s more than one.”

Peter looked reluctant for half a second, until he read the mirth in James’ expression, and he relaxed. “I have heard that you lost it escaping when the King of Denmark discovered you in bed with his only daughter. That you traded it to cannibals for the life of a young maiden. Some say you were born without that arm, and the ridicule is what drove you to become the most feared and respected pirate in the world.” 

James’ amusement grew with each anecdote. Even Natasha was smiling now. 

“My favourite,” Peter continued with renewed enthusiasm. “is you didn’t lose it at all. When you killed a Dark Priestess’ only son, she cursed you to turn to obsidian, but the Vestal Virgin that you were protecting when you killed the man stepped in and shielded you with her own body. Only your arm was cursed, and the gods shielded the virgin from danger because she was so important to them. The sorceress was struck down, and you gallantly refused the virgin’s offer of, uh… payment.” A light blush coloured Peter’s cheeks as he finished his story.

“Why is there always some sweet, helpless young damsel in these tales,” Natasha spoke while swirling the last of her wine around the tankard; deftly drawing attention away from Peter.

“I suppose they help to sell the stories,” James pondered. “A person can imagine themselves the dashing hero or the grateful maiden, depending on their own preference.” 

The comment was surprisingly insightful, and Steve found himself shocked by James yet again. Clearing his throat, Steve suppressed the confused feelings by asking “So what’s the real story?” 

James gave an enigmatic smile and drained the last of his wine before responding. “That’s a story for another time, I think. It’s getting late.” 

“Yes,” Natasha agreed while Steve tried not to pout. She turned her head towards Peter with a teasing smile. “Someone will need to rise early in the morning, if he’s going to learn his ropes.” 

Peter got to his feet, beaming with excitement, and began to clear the table unprompted. Steve chanced a look to James, and had to bite his lip at the tender expression James was watching Peter with. He was so caught up that Steve didn’t notice Natasha watching him in turn, her own eyes calculating. 

Once Peter had collected all the plates the two pairs bid goodnight to one another. Suddenly Steve was once again alone with James. Or was it Captain Barnes again, now that dinner was over? After closing the door, James turned to face Steve, and the contentment from the evening became clouded with uncertainty before Steve’s eyes. 

“I have to say, James,” Steve tested the name - the first time he’d spoken it aloud - and watched as the captain’s expression cleared somewhat. “You have a wonderful First Mate.”

“That I do,” James’ smile was soft. Steve was saved from further conversation by a rapping at the door. Before James could turn back to answer, the door swung open and Thor stepped inside. He closed the door behind himself and sat in the chair Natasha had previously occupied. James watched him with fond amusement until Thor looked up and their eyes met.   
“Brandy?” James asked, and Thor’s face split into a wide smile. With a low chuckle, James moved about the cabin, going into one of his low drawers and coming back to the table with a brown glass bottle. He pulled the stop and poured some into two of the tankards that were still on the table. He turned towards Steve and raised the bottle in a silent question. Steve gave a small shake of his head, but he retook his seat at the table all the same. James too sat down, and Thor tapped his own tankard against James’ before taking a sip. 

“How are you settling in?” Thor asked Steve as he placed his tankard back on the tabletop. 

Steve took a long few seconds to answer; his tongue peaking out to press against his top lip as he tried to form the words. James’ eyes tracked the movement with rapt attention, and there was no telling if the sudden pounding of his heart was a reaction to the sight or fear of what Steve’s answer would be. 

“I am… more comfortable than I had expected to be,” Steve eventually responded. 

Thor’s smile was teasing as he took another sip. “Were you expecting chains? Stocks? Whips, perhaps?”

A surprised laugh forced itself from Steve’s chest, and his cheeks coloured at Thor’s amusement. 

“Well, I’ve never been kidnapped before,” Steve teased back. “I didn’t know what to expect.” Steve’s eyes slid over to James as he spoke. James for his own part was hiding a smile by taking a drink from his tankard. When Steve looked back to Thor, the large blond was watching him with a considering expression. Thankfully he didn’t comment, instead turning his attention back to James.

“I have discussed what’s to come with our newest arrivals this evening. There are a few who wish to speak to you in person tomorrow morning. Others are happy to have me speak for them.”

“Very good,” James nodded. “Make up a list for each, and Maria will be able to help you coordinate.”

“Of course,” Thor smiled and drained the last of his brandy. “I presume you’ll be staying aboard when we dock? Natasha mentioned you wanted to be sure Steve and Peter remain safe.”

Instead of replying, James tilted his head in another half-nod. He finished off his own brandy before stretching his legs out and leaning back in his chair. Steve tried not to let his eyes trail along the length of the captain’s body, but when he glanced sideways to Thor, he wasn’t sure he’d been successful. James straightened back up and turned to face Thor. 

“Are you looking forward to seeing Heimdall?” The smile James was wearing now was soft and teasing, and Steve watched in fascination as a light blush crept up Thor’s neck. James noticed Steve’s curiosity and filled in the blanks. “Heimdall is Thor’s husband. He is Warden of the port we’ll be stopping at.”

Steve smiled at Thor, heart softening further for the big, kind quartermaster. “Do you get to visit often?”

“Whenever we are close by,” Thor replied. “Our captain is very accomodating of the lovestruck among his crew.” 

James didn’t respond, and a sideways glance showed Steve that he had ducked his head at the compliment. Thor didn’t press the matter, instead standing up. 

“Are you on watch tonight?” James asked as he too got to his feet. Steve was content to remain seated and watch the two men interact. 

“Aye, I’ll be taking dawn watch, so I’d better get some sleep while I can.”

Thor gave Steve a friendly nod, which was returned, before pulling James into a quick hug and then making his way out of the cabin. 

The door clicked shut, and they were once again alone. Steve got to his feet, unsure of himself, as James turned to face him.

“The table…” Steve mumbled as he reached for the discarded tankards. James stopped his movements with a gentle hand on the back of his own and Steve’s eyes found James’, suddenly breathless and confused. 

“I’ll do that,” James offered a smile. “You can prepare for bed while I’m gone.” Steve reluctantly pulled his hand out from under James’ and watched as he cleared the table with ease and turned towards the door. Despite his hands being full, James easily opened the door and shut it behind himself without another word. 

It took Steve a few seconds to pull himself together. Telling himself the wine must be to blame for these muddled feelings swimming inside him, Steve turned from the door and began getting ready for sleep.

~

When James returned, he almost laughed aloud. Steve was changed into his bedclothes, lying on the window bench and facing away from the room. This man was stubborn, there was no denying it. James had thought they were softening towards one another tonight, but something about this display of contrariness excited him. He couldn’t quite tell if Steve was still awake, but something told him the small blond wouldn’t reply even if he was. Still, James couldn’t stop himself from uttering a soft. “Goodnight, Steve.” before taking his coat and leaving to take up watch. 

In the darkness of the cabin, Steve bit his lip to stop himself from responding, and let out a conflicted sigh when he heard the door shut and the lock click into place. 


	4. Chapter 4

Steve suppressed a groan as he drifted into wakefulness. His body was sore all over from yesterday’s events, along with his decision to sleep on a wooden bench instead of a bed. His mother had always told him that his stubborn nature would invite trouble. 

As Steve slowly began to stretch and roll over, he noticed a blanket draped over him where there had been none before. Eyes blinking open, he took in the captain’s cabin in the morning light. The desk had been moved back to its original place - how had James accomplished it so quietly that it didn’t wake him? His thoughts now on James Barnes, it wasn’t long before his eyes found the man himself. 

James was in the hammock, awake, and there was something laying atop him. It was small, with fur that would have been white if not for the dirt. It took Steve a moment to realise that James was quietly talking to this creature as his hands glid along the fur in a rhythmic motion.

The bench creaked as Steve pushed himself into a sitting position, and the noise alerted both James and the small animal. From the new angle Steve could now tell it was a dog. 

James smiled at Steve, his hands remaining on the dog. “You’re awake,” he noted as Steve got to his feet.

“Good morning, James,” Steve responded. Testing out the name in the light of day made Steve’s stomach flip, but James didn’t seem at all concerned.   
Steve took a few steps forward and gestured towards the dog. “And who’s this?”

“This is Lucky,” James ruffled the dog’s hair, and Steve couldn’t suppress a smile when Lucky stretched his neck forward to lick James’ nose. “Clint found him stray a few years ago. He belongs to the ship, but I like to think I’m his favourite.” James was looking at Lucky even as he spoke to Steve.

“It seems you have a talent for picking up strays,” Steve teased. James’ responding smile was directed at Steve, whose heart jumped to his throat. This was the first true smile James had sent his way, and Steve was thrown off balance by the sight of it. 

Of course there was no denying that Captain Barnes was handsome, but there was something about this unguarded smile - delivered while divested of his boots, hat, and coat, and with a soft small animal in his lap that clearly adored him. It hit Steve in the chest, and he had to avert his gaze.

“Breakfast will arrive shortly,” James continued their conversation as if he hadn’t noticed Steve’s sudden reticence. Steve truly hoped that was the case.

“Thank you,” Steve risked another look towards James, whose attention was back on Lucky. “I presume I have you to thank for the blanket, too?” 

James’ eyes flicked from Steve to the bench and then back to Lucky before he spoke. “It gets cold at night.” 

“It’s fortunate you have Lucky to keep you warm then,” Steve was trying to keep the conversation lighthearted and, if the sparkle in James’ eyes was any indication, he was doing fine. 

The sound of the door handle rattling urged James to his feet, and Steve had to press his lips together to avoid commenting on the image the Captain presented - stocking-clad feet and untied shirt strings, holding Lucky close with his right arm whilst using his left to reach for the door. Had Steve felt more free to comment, he would have called it ‘adorable’, but instead he focused his attention on who was at the door. 

Lucky’s yip of excitement preceded the entrance of a tall, thin man with dirty blond hair and pale skin marred by scrapes and cuts in various stages of healing. In each hand he was carrying a plate - identical to the plates from dinner the night before but bearing different foods.

“There you are!” The man immediately directed all his attention to Lucky. “Cosying up to the captain again? You little harlot.” 

James chuckled as the man swept past to place their breakfast on the desk, before turning back with his hands outstretched. James dutifully handed over the dog, and now that Steve could see more of Lucky, he noticed the missing left eye. While the man was busy making a fuss of the canine, James noticed the confusion on Steve’s face.

“Steve, this is Clint Barton. He’s our primary rigger and spends more time in the crow’s nest than on deck. Barton, this is Steve Rogers.”

“Oh yeah,” Clint smiled wide at Steve while Lucky licked at his face. “Tasha told me about you. Peter too - he can’t stop talking about how heroic you are.”

A surprised, embarrassed laugh escaped Steve at the comment. “I didn’t do anything special, Mr Barton.” 

“You did what’s right. Not all men can say the same. And please, call me Clint.” 

Steve didn’t know how to respond, so he settled for a short nod. This seemed enough for Clint, who turned his attention back to James. 

“Eggs and potatoes for breakfast. Those are the last as the hen’s stopped laying, but it does mean we’ll be having fresh chicken for dinner.”

“Are we on course for port?” James asked after giving a nod to acknowledge Clint’s words. 

“Aye Cap’n,” Clint’s smile was split between James and Lucky - who had begun nipping at Clint’s ear while the men spoke. “If the wind holds I’d say two nights more before we arrive.”

James nodded at the information, and said no more. Clint inclined his head first towards James, and then to Steve, before leaving with Lucky still in his arms.

Once again Steve was alone with James. He dearly wished the fluttery feeling in his gut would subside. At this point Steve wasn’t even sure what that feeling was. Yesterday he could have identified it as unease, anger, even hatred. Today was an entirely different matter.

“If I am not to leave this room for the next two days, I see no reason to bother getting dressed” Steve smirked - teasing had worked for him so far with James. 

His hope that it would keep working was confirmed when James laughed. 

“I wish I could say the same,” James commented as he began to retie the laces on his shirt. “Alas I have to hold court, give orders, and generally be a Captain.”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh as he reached for the breakfast left for him by Clint. 

“Better you than me, James.” 

~

An hour later saw the captain’s cabin bustling with activity. Maria Hill had returned shortly after breakfast - ledger in hand. She and James had set up the desk and prepared to receive members of the crew or anyone else who wished to speak to Captain Barnes. 

Their first visitor was Thor, carrying with him two scraps of paper. He handed one to Maria before speaking. 

“Those who have requested to see you are there. Here is the list of those who wish me to speak on their behalf.” 

James gave Thor leave to continue, and he quickly rattled through each name and their request. Some were asking for the promised allowance to return home; others were requesting positions aboard the ship, and some inquired about the availability of work on the island they were heading to. James provided answers for each question, while Maria made notes. 

Steve’s attention was fading in and out while the meetings continued. He had retrieved his battered, self-bound book of paper from the trunk and was idly drawing to keep himself busy. It had not escaped his attention that his eyes more often than not fell upon James as he drew. Pirates came to their Captain for a variety of reasons; from settling arguments, to requesting an advance on their upcoming payment. Passengers and crew from the captured vessel also came, most seeking assurance from James as they faced an uncertain future.

After a short break, during which James and Maria left to stretch their legs and Steve relocated to the bed, Thor announced the last of the day’s visitors. Steve’s attention was drawn by the woman with the long black hair and green dress. She was once again accompanied by the shy redhead. Steve’s fingers itched to capture them on paper, and he began to sketch while James addressed the pair. 

“Miss Laufey,” Maria provided the name and the woman in green tilted her head in acknowledgement. 

“How can I help you?” James prompted. 

“There are a few things,” Miss Laufey responded; an air of authority to her soft voice that temporarily distracted Steve from his sketch.

“By all means,” came James’ response, and he leaned back in his chair - yielding the floor to the women with the gesture. 

“First of all, I would like to hear more about the brothel you spoke of.”

“Has my quartermaster not informed you?” James asked, a confused glance towards Thor being met with only a shrug.

“No offense meant to your… wonderful crew,” Miss Laufey smirked as her hooded gaze flicked towards Thor. “I prefer to speak to those in power directly.”

“Very well. I will endeavour to answer your concerns.”

“This enterprise is run by a man?”

“Owned by a man,” James corrected. “A former whore himself, in fact. Mr Stark has a partner. Miss Potts handles the running and staffing of both the brothel and the attached boarding house. She is also Mr Stark’s… better half.” 

Steve couldn’t see James’ face, but the smirk was evident in his voice. Maria’s soft chuckle made him smile. 

“Would my companion be permitted to stay?” Miss Laufey asked next.

“Yes, there are separate sleeping quarters. You wouldn’t be working where you are living, if you understand my meaning. Rent for your rooms and charges for meals are deducted from your earnings weekly. If I may…” James turned his attention to the silent woman with the red hair. “Would you be looking for work on the island?” 

The girl’s eyes widened at being addressed and she nodded before speaking; her voice soft and unsteady. “I can cook. I make medicines too. I can be useful.”

James gave the girl an encouraging smile. “I’ve no doubt you can, Miss?”

There was a pause, in which the girl bit her lip and Miss Laufey placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You can call me Wanda.”

“Ok, Wanda,” James’ smile was still gentle. “I’ll make sure Miss Potts learns of your talents. She may have something for you, or she’ll know someone else on the island who needs help.” James’ gaze returned to Miss Laufey as he continued. “Miss Potts is a good woman. She’s trustworthy, and she defends those loyal to her with a ferocity few possess. I believe the two of you will get along nicely.” 

This remark drew a small giggle from Wanda. Steve suppressed his own chuckle. 

“Was there something else?” Maria prompted when the room fell silent. 

“Yes.” All eyes returned to Miss Laufey as she spoke again. “Some of your crew have expressed… interest, towards us. I would like your word on this, if I may.”

James pursed his lips, displeased, but when he spoke his voice was as even as ever. “If you wish to take any of the crew to bed - for money or for pleasure - I have no objections. That being said, if these advances are unwelcome, please bring it to the attention of Mr Odinson. I would not want either of you to feel uncomfortable during your stay.” 

“If there are certain men bothering you, I am happy to have a word with them.” Thor offered, and Miss Laufey’s lips curled in appreciation of the underlying threat in his words. 

“There are three who have been, shall we say, persistent. Mr Rollins, Mr Garrett, and Mr Rumlow.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” Thor spoke before James could issue any instructions, and James gave an approving nod. 

“Will that be all?” Hill asked. Miss Laufey tilted her head in confirmation. 

“Mr Quartermaster, if you would be so kind as to escort the ladies?” James waited for Thor to step closer before turning his attention back to the women. “If you need anything else, please trust that you can confide in Mr Odinson.”

“Thank you, Captain.” 

Thor opened the door and ushered the two women out, pausing to spare a smile towards the room’s occupants before he closed it behind himself. 

For a few long moments the only sound was the scratching of implements marking paper. Steve added the final touches to his depiction of Miss Laufey, before pulling out the page and tucking it safely away. He closed the book, and avoided looking at the multiple half-formed sketches of James. It wasn’t long before Maria also ceased her writings. After a few short moments of hushed conversation, Hill closed her ledger, bid goodbye to James and Steve, and left the cabin. 

James stood up once the door was closed and turned his attention to Steve.

“I see you’ve found the bed,” James teased with a wry tilt to his lips. “Comfortable?”

Steve tilted his chin in a show of stubbornness that James found far too endearing. “Since I am trapped here, I've decided to make myself at home.” Steve’s words held none of the heat that was there such a short time ago, and James’ smirk morphed into a fond smile. 

Silence stretched between the two as they continued to look at one another. Steve was the first to look away, with a faint blush on his cheeks and a deep breath. James wasn’t ready for their encounter to be over just yet, so he gestured towards Steve’s book.

“You draw?”

Steve looked down at his book, picking at the worn cover as he replied. “When I was young I harboured fantasies of becoming an artist. When my father died that dream died with him. My mother worked at our local tavern, but it wasn’t enough to feed us both, so I picked up odd jobs. She always tried to encourage me to keep drawing, and when she died too…” Steve looked up, suddenly aware of how much he was sharing about himself. James was watching him, attentive and maybe a little sympathetic. Shaking his head, Steve’s gaze returned to his hands on the book. “It’s just a hobby now. I never could rid myself of the urge.”

“Perhaps you could show me sometime?” James’ voice was the most uncertain Steve had ever heard it, and his eyes returned to the captain’s face. 

“Maybe,” came Steve’s slow reply. It was enough to draw a smile from James, who gave a short nod and then turned away. 

With James’ focus elsewhere, Steve quickly put away his sketchbook; a sudden irrational fear rising that James would take it and see the etchings of himself that Steve had been unable to resist creating. When James’ attention returned to Steve, the slighter man rushed to speak before the captain could. 

“Tell me about the journey,” Steve tried to keep his voice light and curious. He didn’t understand what had caused the sudden urge to keep James engaged in conversation - to keep him there in the room with Steve. “We are to land at port, and then what?”

James smiled at Steve’s questions, and he gestured towards the bed in a silent request to sit. Steve nodded his permission, and James perched himself on the very corner. Steve desperately squashed the part of him that wanted to tell James to come closer. 

“Once we have unloaded the bounty of this journey and collected the supplies we need, we will be heading back towards Africa.”

“May I ask why?”

James’ low chuckle was confusing to Steve in more ways than one. 

“A friend of mine has requested passage. We are to pick him up at port, and escort him to his destination.”

A rush of questions crowded Steve’s mind, but he decided against pressing for information about the friend. Silence grew between them for a moment, but Steve noticed that James was making no moves to leave. Wanting to keep it that way, Steve pressed forward with his questions.

“When we arrive at port and Rumlow is gone…” Steve met James’ eyes, and his throat went dry at the look in them. It was as if James was silently daring Steve - daring him to ask what comes next for the two of them. Daring him to assert his desire to leave this room - to leave James. Steve swallowed before continuing, the moment’s pause feeling like a lifetime when in reality it had barely been a second. “Will Peter become part of your crew?”

James’ expression twitched, as if he were suppressing a smile or laugh, before he answered. “Peter is already my crew. If what you’re asking is will he join the crew as if none of this happened, then the answer is yes. It’s clear to everyone aboard that Mr Parker has the friendship of Miss Romanoff. That alone is enough to ensure he is treated well.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at this. While the question itself had been a desperate attempt to keep James’ attention, Steve was pleased to know that Peter would be taken care of. The smile faltered a little when James stood with a reluctant sigh. 

“I need to attend to a few things. I’ll return later with supper.”

“Will you be bringing company?” Steve asked, aiming for a teasing tone but not quite succeeding. 

“Natasha perhaps,” James fought to keep the smirk from his face at Steve’s question. “I’ve a feeling Peter will be far too tired - it being his first day working proper.” 

“Of course,” Steve nodded as a faint blush crept up his neck. It felt like James was seeing through his attempts to keep them together, but the captain wasn’t commenting on it, and Steve’s heart didn’t know how to feel about that. 

With one last smile James turned away and left the cabin. Steve barely registered the click of the lock as he tried to wade through his own conflicting emotions. 


	5. Chapter 5

Steve hated that the bed was so comfortable. He hated that the room was so quiet without anyone else in it. Most of all, he hated how  _ at home _ he was beginning to feel here. The way his stomach flipped when James smiled at him, the way he was already dreading his life without those piercing blue-grey eyes. Steve desperately wanted to go back to the feelings of mistrust and anger, but they were nowhere to be found. For the first time since he’d lost his mother, Steve actually felt hopeful. 

Peter, James, Natasha, even Thor, made this place - a  _ pirate ship _ for heavens’ sake! - seem welcoming, and if Steve allowed himself to hope, he would admit to the appeal of making a life here. Of making this his new home. His new family. 

It was ridiculous and Steve was mad at himself for even thinking it. These people had  _ kidnapped him _ . They were killers! What would his mother say if she knew he was contemplating throwing in his lot with people such as these?

Steve knew what she would say. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew. Sarah Rogers would get that twisted, teasing smirk on her face, and she would put on her best feign of innocence while she said  _ “That young James is quite handsome, isn’t he?” _ She would pretend not to hear as Steve spluttered and tripped over his words. Sarah had always known that her son’s interests weren’t strictly for the fairer sex. He’d tried to deny it as he was growing up, but his mother had looked him dead in the eye and made him promise her that he wouldn’t change for anyone.  _ “The world will try to twist you up into someone that suits itself,” _ she had said when he was eleven and crying over the first boy he’d ever taken a shine to.  _ “But you, my beautiful boy, you were not made for them. You hold onto your truest self, and one day you will find someone who sees that fire in your soul and rejoices.” _

Steve could almost feel the ghost of her touch on his face, and tears sprang to the corners of his eyes. Everything was becoming so confusing, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

The rattle of the door made Steve flinch, and the reaction must have been pronounced, because James was in his line of vision within moments. 

“Steve?” His voice was gentle and uncertain, neither of which helped to calm the whirlpool inside of Steve. Tears spilled over onto his cheeks and he tried to look up at James’ face. “Are you-” a pause, and a dip on the edge of the bed. “Can I do anything?” 

Wiping at the tears with the overlong sleeve of his nightshirt, Steve shook his head. With his vision somewhat clearer, Steve could see the concern in James’ expression. He decided to pick the easiest of what he was feeling and voice it. 

“I miss my mother,” he whispered, and James’ eyes widened just a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” James responded, and Steve was confused to hear genuine remorse in his tone. “Talking about your art must have raised some sad memories. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve wanted to reassure James, but he couldn’t think of a way to do it without admitting to feelings he wasn’t ready to air. Instead he proffered a timid question.  
“Do you ever miss your parents? Your family?”

James’ posture became stiff for just a moment, and Steve feared he had overstepped some unspoken boundary between them. Before he could recant, James relaxed again and shook his head. 

“I didn’t know my parents. I was raised an orphan. The closest thing I have to family is Natasha.”

“You grew up together?” 

“Yes, we have been together since we were four years old. Sailing together since we were fifteen. We built this place - this family - from nothing, and we did it together.” James offered a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t help.”

By now Steve’s tears had dried up, and his stomach made itself known. The smell of cooked chicken drew his attention, and Steve noticed that James had placed their meals on the table before coming to sit on the bed. 

“Perhaps I should dress for dinner,” Steve mused and, before James could stand and excuse himself, peeled his nightshirt off his small frame. James averted his gaze and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure you have seen plenty of men without their clothing, Captain. Hand me that smock, would you?” 

With his head still turned away from Steve’s state of undress, James reached for the cloth Steve had requested and held it out in his outstretched hand. He felt it being taken, and heard the rustling of Steve getting dressed. James didn’t quite understand this sudden shift in Steve’s attitude towards him, but he pushed that confusion out of his mind upon hearing Steve’s soft “thank you.” When James chanced a look back, Steve was now wearing his smock, and had retrieved some breeches. 

“Natasha is going to join us shortly,” James informed Steve while still not quite meeting his eyes. “Peter is already asleep. He had a very long day.”

Steve didn’t hide his proud smile as he got off the bed and took his seat in front of his food. James followed along and they ate in companionable silence. 

Steve felt the weight of James’ gaze on him more than once during dinner, but he was careful not to look up. The desire to get a rise out of the captain had flickered back to life within him, but now the motives behind it were less clear. 

Their meal came to an end in the same silence. Steve risked meeting James’ eyes as they cleared the table, and was rewarded with a small, private smile. Neither man seemed willing to break the atmosphere between them. When James collected the dishes and left the cabin, Steve deflated as if James held the tether that kept him upright. Sitting back in his chair, Steve was glad he had declined the offer of wine that evening. 

There was no time to dwell on the confusion within him, as Steve’s attention was soon drawn by the door once again opening. James entered accompanied by Natasha, and Steve offered both a tight smile.

“Good evening, Steve,” Natasha smiled; that crooked quirk of her lips that Steve was becoming more unnerved by each time it was directed at him. 

“Natasha,” Steve dipped his chin in greeting.

James and Natasha each took a seat. Steve’s eyes flitted between the two; the new information of their childhood bond caused him to see them in a new light. Part of him wondered if they had ever been more than just companions. The thought made him bristle inside, and he tried to push the idea from his mind. 

It took a moment for Steve to realise he had missed the beginnings of a conversation. 

“Clint said two nights more before port. I hope everything will run smooth, but I’d like to be ready just in case.”

“Of course. I’ve spoken to Thor. It seems that Rumlow is still vocal about the loss of Sitwell.”

Steve watched James’ reaction to the information. The captain didn’t quite sneer, but his displeasure with the situation was evident. 

“It’s funny,” Natasha continued. “How heartbroken Rumlow seems to be. If you ask anyone besides Rollins, Sitwell and Rumlow didn’t even like each other.”

Taking a breath, Steve risked an interruption. “If I may ask: why are these men on your crew?” 

Natasha heaved a sigh at the question, and for a second Steve worried that he’d misspoke. 

“It’s complicated,” James sounded tired as he answered. 

“You don’t have to explain,” Steve rushed to reassure them both - and wasn’t that a strange new urge? Steve had never been the placating sort. 

“I told you that Natasha and I grew up together,” James didn’t seem put out, so Steve nodded his acknowledgement. “The first ship we ever sailed on was called The Shield. It was captained by a man called Fury. He took us in, protected us, and when he saw we were ready he encouraged us to move on.”

“Without Fury we would never have made it this far,” Natasha contributed, and James nodded his agreement.

“Just less than two years ago, The Shield was captured. The Spanish chased it down and scuppered it off the coast of Chile. Captain Fury burned along with The Shield and its crew. Only five survived; thrown from the deck by an explosion.”

“Rumlow, Rollins, Sitwell, Ward, and Garrett,” Natasha reeled off the names with a stony expression. 

“The news got to us quickly, and when we next docked to find the surviving crew were on the same island, we didn’t hesitate to offer them a new home.”

“Of course,” Steve showed he understood. “They were basically family.”

James’ expression grew dark as he continued. “The rumours started soon after. Whispers that the story of that day was different depending on which man was telling it. Tales from the island that the men had been spending coin they could not have salvaged from the wreck. Of course I couldn’t throw them all off my ship based on hearsay. Rumlow has a talent for remaining on just the right side of propriety. His skill at this means that any reaction by me will be seen as unreasonable.”

“Rumlow’s desire to run his own ship is what we’re counting on now,” Natasha picked up the conversation.

“But you don’t think he’ll leave quietly?” Steve asked, concerned. 

“The situation with Peter has given him the opportunity to speak out in a way he hasn’t before.” James rubbed his forehead. “He may be able to convince others among the crew to join him. If that happens there could be skirmishes.”

“Some men feel betrayed when their brothers choose to leave,” Natasha explained at Steve’s confused expression. “Leaving to sail under a man like Rumlow is a particularly bitter blow.” 

“That all sounds very stressful,” Steve remarked. Natasha laughed. 

“Did you think piracy was all rum and sea shanties?” she teased. 

“No,” Steve conceded. “But I must admit I wasn’t expecting so much politics.” 

James had grown quiet, watching the interplay between his First Mate and his… Prisoner? Captive? Friend? Whatever Steve was, James was happy to see Natasha warming up to him. 

The evening’s conversation wound down with less important topics, and soon enough Natasha was bidding them goodnight. 

Rather than leaving to allow Steve to dress for bed, this time James merely turned his back. Steve couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he changed clothes and slid into bed. Upon Steve’s soft-spoken ‘goodnight’, James turned around. Looking out from under hooded lashes, Steve was sure he was imagining the tender expression James watched him with. He tracked the captain’s movements as he quietly tidied the cabin before leaving; the lock slipping into place behind him. 


	6. Chapter 6

Steve was pulled from his windowside reverie by the sound of shouting outside. It wasn’t the usual cadence of calls and responses he’d become used to over the last few days. These voices sounded angry, and Steve rushed to the door. He pulled at the handle, frustrated to find it locked. The afternoon sun was high in the sky, blocking Steve’s view from the single small window set high on the door. Hoping that someone would hear him, he banged his fist against the wood. 

The rattling of the lock preceded its opening, and revealed Peter with wide, scared eyes. 

“They’re holding a vote,” Peter spoke in a rush as Steve joined him outside the cabin. “Rumlow is trying to take over the ship.”

Peter’s words made Steve’s blood run cold, and he rushed towards the raised voices with Peter close behind. 

“Alright, Alright! Settle down!” Thor’s booming voice carried over the din. 

From the corner of his vision, Steve saw Peter take his place next to Natasha and return her key. His eyes scanned the crowd, and he found James standing not far from where Thor was drawing the attention of all those aboard. Rumlow was standing on the opposite side with a scowl on his face. 

“All Hands have been called to deck because Mr Rumlow has issued a challenge of leadership,” Thor continued; raising a hand for silence when the crowd again began to murmur. “We are due to make landfall around dawn tomorrow, and so the vote must be undertaken today. Captain Barnes has conceded the floor to Mr Rumlow to make his case.” 

Thor took a demonstrative step backwards, and Rumlow stepped up to address those gathered. 

“Brothers. Friends. I stand before you doing something I hoped I would never have to. I too was taken in by the stories of the great Captain Barnes. I looked up to the man who was said to fearlessly defend his principles and encourage the best in all who sailed under him. However, I cannot in good conscience stand by and allow his blatant dishonesty to continue.”

Steve’s fists clenched unconsciously, and he glanced over to see the same anger he was feeling - even stronger perhaps - on the face of Natasha. 

“Your Captain speaks of fairness. Of equality. And yet, he would condemn one of his own on the word of a child. I can promise you that if it had been his precious Miss Romanoff that was stabbed in the back - defenselessly and without honour - well now that would have been a different story, wouldn’t it?” Rumlow sneered at James, who kept his expression blank. 

“The same Captain who disavows raping and yet keeps the murderer of which I speak tucked away in his quarters to defile as he wishes.” 

“No!” Steve surprised even himself with his outburst. The invocation of his situation too much to bear. All eyes turned to him, and he belligerently stepped forward. “That is not how it is.” 

“Oh really?!” Rumlow sounded far too pleased to have been challenged. “Are you denying that he fucks you? What other purpose could there be to keep you locked inside?”

Steve paused for a short moment; recognising the trap for what it was. If Steve were to deny a relationship between them, the question of what he was doing to repay the debt would follow. Admitting that James had lied to the crew to protect him would support Rumlow’s claim. 

“I won’t deny it,” Steve spoke again, more measured this time. “But it is not as you claim.”

“Please,” Rumlow made a gesture to yield the floor. “Tell us how it is.”

Steve risked a glance towards Natasha, who faced forward with a stiff posture, betraying nothing to any onlookers. Steve dared not look at James, for fear that he would lose his nerve. 

“I wanted it,” Steve put on a show of admitting to some private sin, hoping to garner sympathy from the crowd. “It was I who came to Captain Barnes with desire. His intention was for me to assist Miss Hill with the bookkeeping, since I am able to count. That was to be my payment to this ship. Barnes was only ever a gentleman toward me. I seduced him; he didn’t force me.” 

The sound of conversation flitted around the deck. 

Rumlow curled his lip in disgust. “Why should we believe you?”

Steve gave a dismissive laugh. “Mr Rumlow, I don’t know if you have noticed, but your captain is very attractive. I dare say anyone who hasn’t entertained thoughts about taking him to bed is either dead below the waist or a liar.” 

Thor’s boisterous laugh almost drowned out the laughter of others in the crowd. Rumlow’s scowl deepened. A moment was allowed for everyone to collect themselves before Thor spoke up again. 

“Mr Rumlow, do you have anything to add to your challenge?”

Rumlow’s voice was much stiffer now. None of the previous dramatic bravado remaining. “I have said my piece.” 

“Very well,” Thor turned his head towards James. “Captain Barnes, your response?”

James took a step forward to address his crew. Silence fell as he began. “You know me. I have never claimed to be perfect. To be infallible. To be a gentleman. I do what I believe is right, and I ask only the same of my crew. If you believe Brock Rumlow would captain this ship better than I, then you will not invoke my anger by voting for him. My gratitude goes to those who still believe in me.” 

Taking a step back to confirm he was done speaking, James gave Thor a short deferential nod. 

“You have heard from each of the men. You have until suppertime to bring me your votes. I will be in the galley. Do not neglect your duties in the meantime.” 

The crowd dispersed at the obvious dismissal. Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked to see Natasha urging both him and Peter back towards the captain’s cabin. 

They made it back inside without any trouble. As soon as the door was closed Natasha retrieved James’ brandy from its hiding place and took a drink straight from the bottle. She held it out in offering to Steve but he shook his head, his worried expression instead turning to Peter. 

“Are you ok?”

Peter nodded slowly, his eyes unfocussed. “What if Rumlow wins? What will we do?”

“You’ll come with us,” Natasha spoke in a gentle, comforting tone. “We’ll leave the ship at port, and you’ll stay with us. We won’t leave you here with him, I promise.” 

Again Peter nodded. Steve pressed his palm to the side of Peter’s neck, and waited while the young man registered the sensation and shifted his gaze towards Steve. He offered an encouraging smile, which Peter tried to return. 

“Was it true?” Peter spoke suddenly, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “What you said out there?”

“No, Peter,” Steve kept his voice soft as he explained. “James and I aren’t lovers. Rumlow was trying to turn people against him, and I had to say something to stop him. Can you understand that?” 

“I understand,” Peter seemed more present as he talked. “I’m glad you defended him.”

Steve could only nod as he took his hand back. Their attention turned to Natasha as she spoke: 

“I want you two to stay here today. I’ll bring you food later.” Natasha didn’t wait for their response before leaving and locking the door behind her. 

Peter seemed at a loss. Steve went to the trunk under his bed and returned with a deck of cards in his hand.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked Peter. 

“Only ‘All Fours’,” Peter smiled at the prospect of a game. “I was never any good at Brag.” 

“All Fours it is, then. Maybe later I’ll teach you Three Card Monte,” Steve returned Peter’s smile and led him over to the window bench to play. 

~

Natasha found James at the helm. She approached in silence and stood next to her captain. They both knew it was important for James to be seen above decks for the moment. 

“Peter and Steve are in your quarters,” she spoke only loud enough for James to hear. “I thought it best they stay there until this is all over.” 

“Thank you,” James replied, betraying no emotions over the day’s events. “Be sure to tell Peter that he can vote if he wishes. He’s a part of this crew, after all.” 

Natasha nodded, knowing James would see it from the corner of his vision. They stood together, looking out over the ship that marked the height of careers they had built together with only their wits and hard work. There was nothing more to say, and Natasha knew her presence alone would be enough to bolster James’ nerves as the day progressed. All they could do now was wait.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun was dipping below the horizon when Thor called into the captain’s quarters.

Peter had long since retired, taking the opportunity to submit his vote when returning the supper dishes. Natasha has entrusted him to Clint’s protection for the evening. Steve wondered internally whether there wasn’t something going on between the first mate and the man affectionately known as the Ship’s Hawk. 

James had returned to his quarters for the evening meal, but he had remained silent throughout. Steve understood his mood, and he didn’t try to force conversation. 

It was a surprise to see Rumlow enter the cabin behind Thor, although Steve supposed that both candidates needed to be present. It didn’t escape Steve’s attention that both Natasha and James shifted their stances to block Steve from Rumlow’s view. 

“We have a result,” Thor spoke without preamble when the door was closed. “Of the 37 souls who made their choice known, 10 voted for the challenger. This leaves 27 who wish to retain Barnes as Captain. Mr Rumlow, you have no majority.”

Steve held his breath, afraid of what Rumlow’s reaction would be. To his surprise there was only a nod of acknowledgement, before Rumlow turned and walked out. It felt like the whole room relaxed upon his exit. 

“What happens now?” Steve ventured after a long moment of silence. 

“More politics,” James sighed, although the set of his shoulders betrayed his relief. “But that can all wait for the morning.”

“I agree.” Thor stepped closer, and James accepted the proffered hug.

“Get some rest,” James’ order was aimed at both Thor and Natasha as the latter replaced the former in James’ arms. “We’ll have much to do when we reach port.”

There were murmured goodnights as Natasha and Thor left. James locked the door behind them, resting his head against it for a second before he turned back towards Steve. 

The tired expression residing there pushed Steve into action. He pulled out a chair; a clear instruction for James to sit, which was silently followed by the captain. Steve took the bottle of brandy that Natasha had left sitting on the chest in one hand before using the other to raise the lid and retrieve a tankard. He poured a generous amount and placed it on the table in front of James. 

James lifted the cup with a half-smile on his lips and took a drink. Steve dropped into the seat next to him. As soon as James put it down, Steve took up the drink and swallowed down a mouthful. He met James’ eyes as he passed the drink back, and neither man could suppress a smile. 

“Long day,” Steve eventually spoke. James’ hum of agreement echoed inside the tankard at his lips. 

“Thank you,” James spoke softly once the drink was again in Steve’s hand. “You didn’t have to lie for me, but I’m grateful that you did.”

“The truth would have been too easy to twist. I’ve known men like Rumlow before. They are incapable of selfless action, and so cannot believe it from anyone else.”

“Do you believe my actions have been selfless?” James’ eyes pinned Steve with the question. The air crackled between them, and Steve found himself leaning forward on the table.

“Your motives may have been driven by anger,” Steve licked his lips as he thought through his response. “You may even hate Rumlow; but you took in Peter and myself, and you protected us. You have asked for nothing in return, even knowing you could. I would call that selfless.”

James smirked; draining the last of the brandy before he answered. “Could I really? Could I have asked for something in return?”

“You are the Captain,” Steve’s attempt to suppress his own smirk failed. “You can do as you please.”

“What would I ask for, I wonder? If I were to seek compensation.”

Steve blushed and bit his lip. He watched through hooded eyes as James leaned back in his chair. 

“Maybe I should take you up on your fabrication,” James feigned an airy, unconcerned tone, and Steve held his breath. “After all, the crew will want their shares as quickly as possible tomorrow, and Maria would appreciate the help.”

Steve choked on the surprised laugh that tore from his throat. The tension from the day’s events broke, and Steve slouched back in his chair. 

“I would be honoured to assist.”

“Good,” James was outright smiling now; not bothering to hide behind sarcasm. “Hill is more than capable of taking care of things, should Rumlow decide to act. Means you don’t have to stay cooped up in this room when we hit land, and I can attend to some business in town.”

“There’ll be a beach?” Steve’s whole face lit up with the realisation, and James nodded to confirm. “I’ve never been to a beach.”

“You’ll have sand between your toes soon enough,” James stood from the table and returned the bottle to its drawer. “Right now you should get some sleep.” 

“That an order, Captain?” Steve snickered as James sighed dramatically at the teasing. 

“Would you listen if I said it was?”

Steve sobered for a moment and approached James; standing closer than he'd ever dared before. “I’ll make a deal with you: I will rest if you promise to do the same.” 

James didn’t respond with words. Instead, with a crooked smile, he stepped away from Steve. He leaned against the table to remove his boots. Steve watched with rapt attention as James removed layers of his clothing, until he was in only his undergarments. Heedless of his undressed state, James sauntered over to the cabin’s window to retrieve the blanket which Steve had folded and placed on the bench after that first night. Steve’s eyes tracked James back across the floor, and his gaze was met once again by the captain’s when he reached the hammock. 

“It’s a deal,” James said with a grin before settling himself into the hammock. 

Steve didn’t know how to feel. His heart was racing, he was sure he must be blushing, but all the while a happy bubble formed in his chest and he felt like laughing. On unsteady legs that he couldn’t wholly blame on the movement of the ship, Steve retreated to the bed. 

“Goodnight, James,” 

~

_ "Land to starboard!" _

_ "All hands to deck!" _

_ "Bring her about!" _

The chorus of shouts raised Steve from his slumber.

The Caribbean sun was streaming in through the window, and Steve was unsurprised when he sat up and saw that James was already gone; the empty hammock swaying gently to the ship's cadence. Steve got dressed and squared away his belongings while he waited for someone to come for him. A voice in the back of his mind laughed at him for how easily he’d come to accept captivity. How he had accepted the promise of impending freedom - offered by pirates - as truth, and further how he was no longer denying to himself the appeal of making a life aboard The Winter Soldier. 

It didn’t take long for the door to open, and Miss Hill entered. She offered Steve a tired smile, holding her ever-present ledger to her chest with one arm. 

“I hear you are to be my assistant for the day,” Hill’s voice was friendly, but it didn’t quite carry the same teasing tone of Natasha or Thor. After all, they didn’t know each other quite well enough just yet.

Steve offered a returning smile and a small nod. Hill tilted her head in silent instruction and Steve dutifully followed her out of the cabin. 

The spray of the sea was a welcome surprise to Steve after days of being inside. Hill weaved her way through the gathered crew and Steve rushed to keep up. He spotted Thor and Peter working as they made their way to the foredeck. Natasha was there, and Steve tried to keep the disappointment off his face when he couldn’t locate James. Instead, he looked out towards land and allowed himself to smile. It had been weeks since his eyes beheld anything besides water. Hill and Natasha were talking to one another, but Steve couldn’t make himself focus. He closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling of the ocean breeze on his face. 

Through some feat of crewmanship that Steve didn’t yet understand, the ship came to rest close to the island’s shoreline. The idle bobbing of breaking waves under the ship was a new sensation. From somewhere a voice called out  _ “All hands! Captain on deck!” _ and Steve’s heart leapt to his throat.

James drew everyone’s attention with his mere presence. Silence fell upon the ship. Captain Barnes spoke: 

“We will make landfall soon, but be aware we are not staying long. Once our business is attended to, we will be sailing for Wakanda. Everyone will be allowed a break of one week once we arrive there.” James waited for the spark of conversation to rise and fall again before he continued. “Messers Rumlow, Rollins, and Garrett will be leaving us today, in order to chart their own ship and their own course. We wish them safe journeys onward. If anyone here wishes to join them in their endeavour, know there will be no ill will. Miss Hill can settle your accounts. She will also be available for the issuing of stipends and allowances while we are docked. Once your duties are attended to, you have ten hours of free time before we will return to the ship. To those who are leaving us today, I wish you safe and salubrious travels.” 

James gave a short nod to indicate he was finished speaking, and the crew bustled back into action. Steve’s eyes tracked James’ movements as he approached the foredeck. When James noticed Steve watching him, he smiled. 

“All is in hand,” Natasha spoke unprompted when James was within earshot. “Clint sent up the signal. Heimdall is expecting us.” 

James’ response was cut off by the booming sound of Thor announcing  _ “All hands to bathe!” _

Steve looked around the ship as crew members whooped and hollered before flinging themselves over the railings and into the sea. The baffled look on Steve’s face made Natasha and Hill laugh. 

“Do you swim?” James asked, drawing Steve’s attention. 

“No,” Steve replied, still dumbfounded at the sudden outburst of joy amongst the pirates. “Never had cause to.” 

“Maybe James can teach you,” Natasha nudged Steve with her shoulder, but her eyes were on the captain as she spoke. James in turn was still watching Steve closely, and Steve felt himself begin to blush at the attention. Averting his gaze, Steve watched as the crew splashed in the sea, all making their way towards the beach at their own pace. 

“I prefer to take a longboat,” Hill smirked, and Steve looked at her. “Care to join me?”

As Steve nodded his assent, James spoke up again. 

“I have some things to take care of. I’ll be back before dusk,” His next instruction was directed towards Natasha: “Tell Thor that he can take the day with his husband as soon as he has escorted Wanda and Miss Laufey to meet Stark and Miss Potts.”

“I’ll escort them,” Natasha countered. “I haven’t seen Pepper in a while, and I know Thor will be itching to see Heimdall.” 

A thought occurred to Steve in that moment, and he drew everyone’s attention with a soft “oh,” before reaching into his tunic and pulling out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Natasha. “Would you give this to Miss Laufey?” Steve was shy to present the drawing he had created days prior.

Natasha took the paper. “May I?” she asked, and at Steve’s nod she unfolded it. “This is beautiful, Steve,” Natasha’s smile had never been so soft. “I’ll be sure she gets it.” 

After a few more moments of chatter that went entirely over Steve’s head, Natasha moved to leave. It took Hill only a second or two longer before she was placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“We should head out too. I want to speak to Heimdall about the shipment before he and Thor get… reacquainted.” Hill’s smirk was suggestive and Steve couldn’t help his laugh. 

“I’ll see you both this evening,” James said by way of a farewell, and Hill only nodded before using her hand on Steve to steer him away. 

For his part, Steve valliantly suppressed the disappointed sigh at leaving James behind. If the amused expression Hill wore as they got into the waiting longboat was any indication, he hadn’t kept that same disappointment off his face.


	8. Chapter 8

Six hours later saw Steve lying on the beach with his eyes closed, listening to the bustle of people around him. He and Maria had worked well together; running through the manifests, calculating the haul and dividing up the shares. Steve learned that most pirates kept their money in trust with Hill: only asking for what they needed at any one time. 

Steve had met Heimdall, whose intimidating demeanour had been short lived thanks to Thor’s attempts to climb the warden like a ship’s mast that left both men flushed and giggling. The meeting had been short for quite obvious reasons. 

The sun caressing Steve’s face was blocked out by a shadow, and Steve opened one eye to see Natasha standing over him. 

“Miss Laufey appreciated the picture,” Natasha spoke once she was sure Steve was awake; settling herself in the sand next to him as she did. “Pepper Potts saw it too. She has asked me to invite you to return next time we are at port.”

“Why?” Steve was confused. 

“She wishes to commission your services. To draw all the girls and boys who work for her, so that she can make a catalogue of sorts. She has offered generous payment; in coin or in trade, for you to decide.” 

“Trade?” Steve realised what was meant as he spoke the word, and silently thanked the sun for warming his face so that the blush that came was not so pronounced. “She really liked it?”

“ _ ‘Exquisite’ _ was the word they used,” Natasha grinned.

“I’ve never been paid for my art before,” Steve mumbled, pushing himself forward on his arms to sit upright in the sand. 

“Surely it’s pleasing to know you have the option, should you decide to leave the ship.”

Steve looked at Natasha from the corner of his eye. He could tell she was baiting him, and he fought himself not to rise to it. 

“I have a favour to ask of you,” Steve changed the subject. “I would like nobody else to know of it.” 

“Intriguing,” Natasha’s sharp little smile was back. “Do go on.”

~

Evening saw the crew returning to the ship. Now that he was free from the threat of Rumlow, Steve chose to stay above decks as everyone milled around - loading supplies, getting ready to sail again. He promised himself he would draw the view from this deck one day - capturing the buzz of activity and the billowing of the sails. 

His attention was drawn by Natasha. She approached with a small bundle in her hand, wrapped in coarse cloth and tied with fraying string. When she was within reach, Natasha handed the package to Steve.

“Thank you,” Steve smiled, holding the bundle between his two hands. 

“It cost all of it,” Natasha said with a wry smirk. Steve laughed.

  
  


Across the ship, James walked up the gangplank and his eyes widened at the sight of who was waiting for him there.

“Hello Bucky, how’ve you been?”

“Sam,” the name came out more as a sigh than a word, and James gave the newcomer a mischievous smirk. “Boarding my ship without me? Hope you’re not trying to take over; already had one of those this week.”

Sam laughed and pulled James into a hug, which was eagerly returned. They parted just far enough for Sam to see James’ face.

“I have missed you, James Barnes.”

James’ smile softened his whole face, and he pulled Sam back in for another hug as he whispered “Missed you too.” into the other man’s ear. 

When they parted again Sam leaned in for a kiss, but James turned his head away. 

“I suppose you didn’t miss me that much,” Sam joked, but James’ expression was contrite nonetheless. 

“It hardly seems appropriate, Sam: you’re on my ship to be transported to your wedding.”

“Ah, yes,” the smirk on Sam’s face was unsettling to James, even before he said his piece. “My wedding. To a man whose bed we have both warmed - together as well as separately. The same man who asked your permission to marry me, and when you gave your blessing he thanked you by licking your-”

“Yes, Ok!” James interrupted with an embarrassed laugh. “Heavens, Wilson. The mouth on you!”

The remark only served to widen Sam’s grin, and he leaned closer to James. “Either put my mouth to better use, or tell me what’s really going on here.” 

James bit his lip and sighed. Sam took his silence and looked around the ship. His eyes lit up when they fell on someone just over James’ shoulder.

“Does this have anything to do with the small blond looking at me like he wants to gut me alive?”

James didn’t need to look to know who Sam was talking about. With another sigh, he rested his forehead against Sam’s and mumbled. “It’s complicated.”

  
  


Natasha tried to hide her amusement when Steve spotted James and Sam together. Steve was clearly irate at how close they were and the sight of Sam’s hands on James. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, fighting to keep his voice steady as he watched them. 

“Samuel Wilson,” Natasha supplied. “Former captain of The Falcon. Aside from myself he is James’ oldest friend. We are to escort him to Wakanda, where he is to be wed.” 

“He isn’t acting like a man promised to another,” Steve grit his teeth, not having meant to say that aloud. 

“Their relationship is… special,” Natasha was smiling now as she watched Sam catch sight of Steve. There was no doubt in her mind that Steve’s mutinous expression could be seen clear as day. “Why don’t we go and say hello?”

Steve hesitated; wanting neither to go and speak to the newcomer, nor to explain why. The decision was taken from him when Steve looked back and saw James and Samuel Wilson heading their way. 

Natasha met them halfway, and the happy giggle she let out at being picked up and spun by Wilson startled Steve. James was watching the two with undisguised fondness, and Steve took the moment to size up the man who so clearly held James’ affections. 

Wilson was attractive, that was undeniable. Although shorter than James, his body was built in a similar way; no doubt created through years of hard work at sea. His eyes were bright, as was his smile, and Steve bitterly thought that it was no wonder how James -or anyone- would be enamoured with him. 

Steve only realised he hadn't been paying attention to the conversation between the three when he heard Wilson's voice -frustratingly rich and melodic- directed towards him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" The question was meant for James, but Wilson was looking at Steve when he spoke. Steve's attention snapped to him and the expression he saw there was teasing but not malicious.

"Steve," James tried to smile, but the displeasure on the blond's face gave him pause. "This is Sam Wilson. Sam; Steve Rogers."

"Good to meet you," Sam offered his hand, which Steve took without enthusiasm.

"Same."

"I have to oversee the supplies," Natasha cut in, ignoring the tension. "You boys behave while I'm gone."

Natasha gave Sam and James each a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Sam's attention immediately turned back to Steve, while Steve was fighting hard not to look at James. 

"It seems to me all is in hand," Sam smirked as he looked around. "Come on, Bucky, let's have a drink." He clapped James' shoulder and walked towards the captain's quarters, calling back over his shoulder: "You too Steve."

Steve looked at James -  _ Bucky?  _ \- when he felt eyes on him. The nervous look in James' eyes made Steve want to reassure him, but an ugly jealous voice in his head wouldn't let him. Instead, he turned without a word and followed Sam towards the cabin. 

Heaving a sigh, James followed along behind. This was going to be a long night, he could feel it. 


	9. Chapter 9

Steve retreated to the window bench as soon as they entered the cabin. He noted that James didn’t lock the door this time, and allowed himself an internal moment of happiness. Steve also noticed that Sam was making himself at home with practiced ease. He had already retrieved a bottle of wine and three tankards to pour it into. James, for his part, was leaning against the door with his arms folded.

“So, Steve,” Wilson started as he poured the drinks. “How did you come to be in the employ of the Winter Soldier?”

Steve’s sharp laugh drew James’ eyes to him. When he didn’t elaborate, Sam turned his head to James, an eyebrow raised in question. 

“Bucky,” he prompted when no explanation came. 

“Why do you call him that?” Steve interrupted, once against drawing the attention of both men. 

“It’s something Natasha used to call me when we were children,” James explained, meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time since introducing Sam. “It has somehow remained: an affectionate moniker used mostly to annoy me.” 

Sam chuckled at the summary, and Steve tried to keep the scowl off his face. 

“You obviously are not yet ready to share your story,” Sam was talking directly to Steve now; offering him a tankard like an olive branch. “Drink with me instead.” 

It took Steve a second of indecision before he stood from the bench and joined Sam. He took the offered drink, obligingly tapping it against Sam’s in ‘cheers’, and leaned against the desk. As he took a drink, he watched the silent conversation that played out between Sam and James. He couldn’t decipher exactly what was being communicated, but it appeared that Sam was the winner, as James joined them with a put-upon sigh and picked up the remaining drink. 

~

The sun had disappeared below the horizon when a loud banging came at the door. The three men had been sitting around the table, drinking in a strained sort of silence up until then. James stood and opened the door, only to be pressed backwards by the throng of visitors. 

Clint was the first through the door, holding two plates piled high with food. Peter came next, followed closely by Natasha -each carried the same plates with the same food- and lastly Maria, with her own plate and a bottle of dark liquor, entered and pushed the door closed behind them. 

The captain’s cabin was not meant to hold seven people at once, but they all found themselves a spot and got comfortable in no time at all. Steve found himself pressing shoulders with Sam as Peter settled on his other side. 

Steve didn’t know what to do with his face when Clint approached Sam and, without preamble pressed into him, giving him a deep, sucking kiss. Sam reciprocated, and when they parted Clint’s smile was lopsided. As he stepped back, Clint caught Steve’s eyes and gave him a mischievous wink. 

Aside from the odd comment, silence reigned for a while as everyone ate their fill. Only when the plates were piled on the table and everyone was nursing a drink did the conversation begin to flow again. 

“Are you excited to go back to Wakanda?” Sam’s question was directed at Maria, who grinned back at him.

“Not as excited as you are, I’d wager.”

Steve and Peter must have been wearing matching guises of confusion, because Natasha offered an explanation without prompting. 

“Maria has a lover on the island,” Natasha’s tone was teasing, but Maria didn’t seem embarrassed at all. “Her name is Okoye.”

Peter made an excited, happy sound. Steve was coming to learn that young Peter was quite the romantic at heart. 

It was he who prompted Sam. “Tell us about your husband-to-be. Is he nice?”

Sam laughed at the question, but Steve noticed the softness in his gaze and the crinkles around his eyes as he answered. “M’Baku is a good man. He is the leader of a tribe called the Jabari, who live in the mountains of Wakanda. We have been promised to one another for a little over a year. I had some business to take care of before I could be satisfied to leave my ship behind and join him there for our marriage. I do not intend to leave again once we are wed.” 

“Who did you leave as captain?” Natasha asked, as Peter continued to smile at Sam wistfully. 

“Danvers. Rambeau wanted to remain as Quartermaster - she felt her talents best suited to bridging the gap between captain and crew.”

“Doesn’t hurt that her wife is the captain now,” Clint joked. “Although I don’t know if that’ll make Carol easier to handle or harder.” 

Sam’s laugh was rich as he threw his head back in mirth. Steve felt his insides twist up when he noticed the way James was looking at Sam. The smile on the captain’s face and his relaxed posture made something burn inside Steve. 

“Is it true that The Falcon is crewed solely by women?” Peter asked. 

“Not solely, but more than half to be sure,” Sam responded, a little confused at Peter’s eagerness. “I didn’t think I’d mentioned my ship’s name to you.”

“Mr Parker is quite the scholar when it comes to pirates,” James smirked, and Peter ducked his head with a blush. “I’m sure he knows all the stories that are out there about you. My own were quite amusing.”

“Is that so?” Sam chuckled. 

“Apparently I have bedded royalty, sacrificed my arm to cannibals, and bested the most fearsome witch on Earth.”

Sam’s laugh was louder at this, and he turned his attention to Peter. “Tell me then, Peter: what do they say about Captain Wilson?”

Peter’s blush only grew at having Sam’s focus solely upon him. He bit his lip and wrung his hands, looking from Sam to the rest of the assembled faces and then back again. 

Wanting to protect Peter from the scrutiny, Steve interrupted with a comment to James. “I’m sure you promised us that story,” 

“What story would that be?” James asked in return. Steve was vindicated to see the light in James’ eyes at being spoken to.

“The one about your arm?” Peter offered, still a little nervous but on firmer footing with James at this point. 

“Ah, yes,” James smiled. “I believe I did.”

James took a sip of rum before meeting Peter’s excited gaze, and began his story:

“Wakanda is a monarchy. It is currently ruled by King T’Challa, but that was not always so. In his youth, T’Challa captained a ship called The Black Panther. Ask any European king and they’ll tell you it’s a pirate ship. While that is not strictly true, Wakanda has more love for pirates than it does for Europe, and so it is not uncommon to find the Panther in waters where pirates rule and nobles fear to sail.”

“Close to ten years ago, the Soldier and the Panther sailed together for close to a year. We were searching for something -the details no longer matter- and it brought us to the Southern Seas, where we came upon a hydra. It was almost a full day and night before we were able to defeat it. In that time many sailors lost their life, and I lost my left arm.” 

Peter’s eyes were wide as James told the story. He was startled when Sam made a loud ‘tsk’ sound.

“That is hardly the full story.”

Peter looked from Sam to James, whose lips were pursed at the challenge. When he remained silent, Peter turned his attention back to Sam in a silent request to continue. 

“The hydra was about to kill T’Challa. There was nobody aboard the Black Panther who could have got there in time, so Bucky used a brace rope to swing over to the ship and save T’Challa. He lost his arm in the process and almost died. The hydra was subdued and both ships rushed to Wakanda, where T’Challa bid his sister Shuri to save James’ life. Five years later, she crafted his arm using science and magicks that she invented for the purpose.”

“There is nobody more gifted than Shuri,” James agreed. “She may be only sixteen, but her mind is unparalleled.” 

For a moment Peter looked very much as he had that first night at dinner - ready to scold Captain Barnes for downplaying his own greatness. Before he could speak, Clint stood with an exaggerated sigh and stretch. He closed the distance to Peter and rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Come along, my lad. You’ll need longer than you think to settle below decks on your first night.”

Peter nodded dutifully. He stood, bid goodnight to everyone, and followed Clint to the door. Steve stood as Clint opened the door; retrieved the package Natasha had given him, and followed them out.

“Well,” Sam spoke when the door was closed, a sneaky glint in his eye. “Steve is very interesting, isn’t he?”

“Hmm,” Natasha hummed with a smirk before James could respond. “Bucky finds him  _ fascinating _ I think.” 

“How did he get here?” Sam continued the conversation with Natasha, while James scowled at them both. “He didn’t seem keen to tell me earlier.” 

“It’s a long story, but the important parts are that Bucky saved Steve’s life, and Steve has been rather ornery about it.”

“Oh, and the angry eye-fucking,” Maria chipped in with a wry smile. “There’s been plenty of that.”

“Could you please!” Bucky finally broke in, looking simultaneously frustrated and endeared. “Please, just let me have a drink in peace in my own gods-damned quarters.”

Instead of a reprieve, all the outburst earned James was the laughter of his two best friends and his bookkeeper. 

  
  
  


“Taking in the night air?” Clint asked when Steve followed him and Peter out of the cabin. 

“I have something,” Steve explained hastily, before turning towards a curious Peter and handing over the small wrapped bundle. “For you.”

Peter took the gift with a bemused expression, and opened it to find a leatherbound journal with gilded covers. He flipped through the crisp, blank pages for a moment before turning his astonished eyes on Steve.

“Why?” was all Peter could think to ask. 

“I believe you have the makings of a fine storyteller,” Steve gave Peter an encouraging smile. “I thought perhaps you would like to chronicle your journeys.” 

Clint clapped Peter on the back in congratulations of the gift, and Peter’s face split into a wide smile. 

“Thank you, Steve! I’ll use it every day!” 

Steve offered a nod and a smile to both men before turning on his heel and heading back towards the captain’s room. 


	10. Chapter 10

Natasha and Maria were preparing to leave as Steve returned. A brief round of goodnights was exchanged before the two women retired, leaving Steve with Sam and James. 

“I assume,” Sam began, looking at James with that same glint of mischief in his eyes. “That I won’t be sharing your bed, given the… circumstances. Perhaps I should make my way to quarters.” 

Something possessed Steve to cut in before James could respond. He stepped closer to James and plastered on a fraudulently sweet smile. 

“You are James’ close friend,” Steve told Sam. “I wouldn’t dream of exiling you from his presence after so long apart.” 

James looked confused, and Sam was enjoying the exchange far too much. As James opened his mouth to speak, he felt Steve’s hand on his arm; gripping it with surprising strength just above his elbow.

“Take the hammock,” Steve continued. “James can share with me.”

“That is very gallant of you,” Sam gave a short nod, hiding his smile with the dip of his chin. 

For his part, James still looked entirely bemused. The next thing he knew, Steve was letting go of his arm and both he and Sam began to change for bed. James was at a loss to explain what was happening, but he removed his shoes and began to strip down too. There was quite clearly nothing to be gained from pushing for clarity, and James had to admit to himself that the thought of sharing his bed with Steve made him giddy with nervous excitement. He chuckled silently to himself: if only the storytellers could see the infamous Captain Barnes now. Trembling like a schoolgirl over the thought of laying down next to a man who, not one week ago, was ready to tear his throat out. A man who now seemed to be defending some previously unspoken claim to James’ companionship? 

With a minute shake of the head, James pushed such thoughts from his mind. Instead, he turned towards Sam, who was changed and getting ready to climb into the hammock. He pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead -ignoring the feeling of Steve’s eyes burning into him- and whispered “goodnight”. Sam returned the sentiment, and James next faced the bed. 

Steve was laying under the covers, not bothering to disguise his intense gaze on James. The stubborn set to his jaw that James found so enchanting was present as ever, but its effect was softened by the way Steve’s eyelids were beginning to droop; his long lashes brushing against his cheeks.

James joined Steve in the bed, trying to keep himself separated from the warm body next to him. He mumbled “goodnight Steve” and was rewarded with the barest of brushes to his arm and a returned “goodnight.”

~

When James stirred awake the next morning, it was to the unfamiliar weight of another’s body atop his. He cracked an eye open and looked down to see Steve: fast asleep, his torso draped across James’ own. With a flex of his hand, James also noticed the fingers of his right hand were nestled in Steve’s hair, his palm resting on the base of the smaller man’s skull. Steve’s sleepy breaths tickled the hair on James’ chest, and he found himself at an impasse. The proper thing to do would be to untangle himself, leave the bed, and allow Steve his privacy to wake up. What he  _ wanted _ to do was leagues away from that. He wanted to pull Steve closer; to wake him with a kiss; to roll them over and press his body into the feather stuffed bed beneath. 

While he took a second to compose himself, James chanced a look towards the hammock, only to find that Sam wasn’t there. That could only mean that Sam had seen them asleep like this when he awoke. Screwing his eyes shut, James took a steadying breath and thought over his options. He knew that Steve was a heavy sleeper—he’d been able to come and go without incident when Steve was sleeping before— but if he was deep enough into slumber that James could get out of the situation without waking him was another question entirely. Of course, James could just wake Steve up, perhaps even attempt to discuss their predicament, but he didn’t imagine that would go well given Steve’s fiery temperament. 

James was thankfully saved from his decision by Steve stirring. He stretched, making a soft groaning sound, and rolled over onto his back—eyes not opening at all. This left James free to slide out from under the covers and hastily dress before making his way outside.   
  


Sam’s grin felt mocking as James joined him at the helm. James purposely avoided Sam’s eyes, but that didn’t deter his friend.

“Sleep well?” Sam asked with laughter in his voice. James scowled, now in no doubt that Sam had seen them. James remained stubbornly silent, and Sam took his arm. His tone shifted, becoming serious and sympathetic.  
“Natasha told me about the situation with Steve,” Sam caught James’ eye, making sure he understood the conversation had been deeper than their teasing the night before. “We both know that old memories are hobbling you when it comes to him. I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you, Sam,” James tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps things will be clearer after some time ashore.” 

“Just remember that he is a grown man,” Sam bumped his shoulder against James’. “It is not your job to shelter him from his own decisions.” 

James scoffed. “And what sort of decisions would those be?”

“To leave. To stay. To tear your clothes off and have his way with you.” 

James did laugh at this, and Sam smiled at seeing the brief flash of joy on his friend’s face.

“I may be the newcomer here,” Sam continued. “But Steve does not strike me as the type who would ever do something he did not want to. Remember that, and try not to worry so much.” 

While James did not outright agree with Sam, he did offer a hum of acknowledgement. 

Together the two captains looked out over the ship in comfortable silence, until Maria Hill approached.

“All accounts have been settled,” Maria spoke without preamble, as was her way. “Do you have the time to discuss it?”

“Of course,” James joined Maria on the steps that led from the helm. “Galley?”

Maria nodded her agreement and, after a brief farewell to Sam, the two made their way across the deck.

~

Steve stirred and opened his eyes, taking in the empty cabin and the cold space in the bed next to him. Knowing that the door would be unlocked, and that he could leave if he wanted to, made Steve smile. He sat up and stretched, his muscles tugging pleasantly from a deep sleep. It didn’t take long for his stomach to make itself known, and Steve thought over his options. He could sit around and wait for James to come back on the chance that he would bring food, or he could get up and take a much-anticipated tour of the ship under the guise of locating the kitchen.

The decision was made before Steve had even finished thinking it, and he shuffled off the bed to find his clothes. 

~

In the galley, James munched on an apple and nodded along as Maria briefed him on their finances while sipping her morning coffee. 

“It’ll be no surprise that Rumlow took the share you offered him that would have gone to Sitwell. We have three crewmates who are getting close to running out of money - I’d have Thor speak to them if I were you. Peter has requested I keep his half share in trust, to quote, ‘until I can think of something fun to spend it on,' and all those whom we left at port parted with their stipends as agreed, with the exception of one who lost it all in a dice game no sooner than he got it.” 

James chuckled at that as he finished his breakfast and took a sip of his own coffee. He would never understand how Bruce—the ship’s cook—always made such fine coffee out of such meagre ingredients. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Maria looked serious as she spoke, so James put down his cup to give her his full attention. “Steve took his stipend. I was not sure if you might want to know that. There was no mention of him leaving; of when or where he would go. Still…” 

Maria didn’t complete the thought, but James understood all the same. The unspoken  _ ‘prepare yourself’ _ rang clear in his mind. Perhaps it had been foolish to hope that Steve would find his home there aboard the Winter Soldier, but James had hoped regardless. Hill’s eyes were still on him, and James gave her a short nod of acknowledgement and thanks. With a returning nod, Maria closed up the account book. 

The ill-fitting door to the galley swung open moments later, and granted access to Steve Rogers. His eyes met with the captain’s and he smiled. 

“Good morning,” the greeting was intended for Maria too, but Steve’s gaze didn’t waver from James. There was something odd in the captain’s countenance, and the air was thick with a tension that was different to what Steve was used to. 

Hill gulped down the last of her coffee and muttered her excuses before quietly removing herself from the situation. James was still looking at Steve; his expression tight, almost sad. 

“I’m starving,” Steve pressed on, and stepped closer to James. The small flinch from James when their arms touched was very concerning, but Steve tried to brush it off. “What’s for breakfast?” 

“Fruit goes first,” James’ voice was rough as he spoke, and Steve’s brow creased when he noticed the taller man was avoiding his sightline. “It will go bad.” 

Steve nodded, and James swept past him towards the door. Their eyes met once more when Steve’s gaze followed. 

“Come to the cabin once you’ve eaten,” James’ voice was the weakest Steve had ever heard it - the words neither a request nor an order. “I have something for you.” 

Before Steve could respond, James was gone. 

~

James was trying not to pace as he waited for Steve to return. His mind was racing with all the ways he could have handled their previous encounter - anything would be preferable to running away like he had. 

The door to the captain’s quarters rattled as it opened, and James’ eyes snapped to the entryway. 

“Your cook, Bruce, doesn’t talk very much, does he?” Steve said in lieu of a greeting, and James was so thrown off that he laughed despite himself. 

Steve closed the door before centering all his attention on James, who’s mirth died immediately upon making eye contact. 

“This,” James hurried to speak before Steve could ask what was wrong. He handed Steve a package - wrapped similarly to the one Steve had gifted to Peter. “This is for you.” 

Steve took the gift, a soft smile revealing how touched he was. “For me?”

“I was going to wait until we arrived,” James explained as Steve pulled the packaging off to reveal a set of coloured pastels. “Wakanda is beautiful, and I knew you’d be desperate to capture it.”

“This is… James, these are magnificent,” Steve’s eyes met James’, and the sadness he saw there confused him. “You couldn’t wait until we were ashore?” The question was posed in a teasing tone, but the underlying concern was evident. 

“Maria told me… she told me about your stipend. I don’t expect you to tell me when you plan to leave or where you will go—you are not beholden to me, I promise you—but I wanted to be sure you had these to take with you.” 

“My…” Steve paused for a moment, and James’ heart felt like it stopped right along with him. When Steve’s expression cleared into a sad but fond smile, James held his breath - preparing for the goodbye that was to come. “I took that money to buy a gift for Peter,” Steve explained, and now James’ heart hammered as if making up for the lost beats of a moment ago. “I gifted him a journal to encourage his imagination and storytelling. The book cost the entire stipend - I have none left to go anywhere, even if I wanted to.” 

James was at a loss for words.  _ ‘Even if I wanted to’ _ rang in his ears. Steve didn’t want to leave. Steve had no intention of leaving. Steve  _ wanted to stay _ \- with the ship. With  _ him _ . James was so caught up in what this could mean that he didn’t notice Steve coming closer until he felt a hand on his chest. Looking down, James’ breath caught at the heated look in Steve’s gaze. 

The door burst open before James could begin to speak, and both men looked up to see Natasha - features creased in worry. 

“We need you, Captain. Storm. Dead ahead. There’s no way around it.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING  
> This scene has a scene of accident injury and emergency field surgery. Nothing graphic is depicted, but proceed with caution if you're sensitive to that kind of thing

The wind had already begun to rise by the time James, Steve and Natasha made it to the helm. Sam was still there, holding the ship steady as if it was second nature; which, Steve supposed, it would be since Sam had surrendered his captaincy only a day before. 

“How does it look?” James asked as they approached.

“Holding steady for the moment. I daresay we have a small window for preparation, but only if we move now.”

James turned to Natasha. “Get Clint down from his nest.” 

Natasha gave a short nod and turned on her heel. Her retreat was urgent but still as measured as she ever was. James then turned back to Sam. 

“Can you hold? I will return before things get bad.”

“Aye Cap’n,” Sam tilted his head in deference and, despite the situation, shot a small grin and wink towards James. Steve watched as it had its intended effect - causing James’ lip to quirk upwards and his shoulders to drop some of their tension. 

Steve followed at James’ heels as the Captain strode across the deck. His eyes were constantly scanning for trouble, and Steve wasn’t certain that James even realised he was still there. 

They came upon Thor, who was smiling wide and seemed to be in good spirits despite the spray of the sea and rush of the wind. 

“Beautiful day, Captain,” Thor laughed as he spoke. 

“Mr. Odinson, you are mad,” James called over the rising sound of the wind, but he was smiling. “Take your strongest men and ensure the sails are controlled. The only way out of the storm is through it.”

“Ain’t that always the way,” Thor grinned and clapped James on the shoulder before he bounded away in search of the necessary crew. 

As James again began to stride with purpose, Steve made a grab for his arm. James pulled up short and looked at Steve.

“How can I help?”

James’ determined expression softened for a moment, before he got back to business. “Find Peter and Maria. Take them into the galley with Bruce and keep them there.”

Steve’s brow creased in indignation at the order. “You expect me to run and hide?”

“I expect you to keep my people safe,” James’ response was firm but his eyes were still softened by Steve’s indomitable spirit. “Can I trust you to do this?”

Steve bit down on the argument he wanted to offer and instead responded, “of course, Captain.”

James smiled and offered Steve a small nod of thanks before the smaller man turned and hurried away.

Natasha and Clint approached with the same urgency in their gaits. 

“Take who you need,” James began without prelude. “Go below and secure the cargo, ensure the portholes are blocked and that we have no leaks.”

Natasha gave a sharp nod and Clint followed with “Aye aye” before the two left to handle their orders. 

~

Steve found Peter on the quarterdeck at the aft of the ship. He was on his knees with one arm halfway inside a scuttle opening. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, barely containing his panic at Peter’s unsecured position.

“Lucky ran inside!” Peter replied, voice fearful. “He can’t stay in there, it’s not safe!”

Steve’s heart melted despite the danger of their situation. Peter leaned further forward to retrieve the dog, and Steve rushed to anchor his legs. A yelp and a call of triumph followed one another, before Peter emerged with a trembling bundle of white fur in his arm. He supported Lucky with his other arm as Steve helped him to his feet. 

“We have to find Maria,” Steve told Peter once they were both upright again. The young man nodded, the determined look on his face only somewhat softened by the wet dog in his arms. 

The pair escaped the sudden onslaught of rain as they ducked under the eaves of the middle deck. Steve spotted Maria as she emerged from below, and he called her over with a frantic wave.

“Captain wants us to stow away in the galley,” Steve didn’t wait for Maria to speak, and she nodded her understanding immediately.

The two men and their canine charge followed behind the bookkeeper as she expertly navigated through the ship and led them towards the kitchens. 

~

The lash of rain was indistinguishable from the spray of the sea as James made his way back to the helm. Unsurprisingly, Sam was holding the ship steady with little outward effort. James rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder when he was within reach.

“You haven’t lost your touch, I see.”

“If you weren’t so infatuated with that Erinys sharing your bed, you’d have known that yesterday,” Sam teased and Bucky rolled his eyes. Sam stepped aside; not letting go of the wheel until Bucky had a grip on it as they switched positions.

“Please go and help Thor,” Bucky directed. With a wicked grin, Sam stepped close to Bucky and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“For luck,” Sam winked, and he was gone before Bucky could answer, leaving the Captain to laugh and shake his head. 

~

Steve sipped at the tea Bruce had made from his private stash and watched Peter. He was feeding a recently dried Lucky with a small plate of scraps —running his hands soothingly over the dog’s fur. The wind howled outside, and the sound of water buffeting the ship provided a low underlying rumble that unsettled Steve. In order to distract himself, Steve turned his attention to Maria.

“Tell us about Okoye?” Steve’s voice wavered as he asked - not because he was afraid of Maria, but because he feared upsetting her with the request. He hoped her mind had not asked her  _ ‘what if we don’t survive?’ _ as his own mind had been asking him.

Peter’s attention was drawn by the question, but he continued to stroke Lucky. 

“Okoye is…” Maria’s expression softened and her smile was sweet as she talked. “She is wonderful. She leads the Dora Milaje—the King’s own guard in Wakanda— a team of strong, deadly women, and amongst them Okoye is the strongest, and the most beautiful. I could not imagine my life without her. In truth, I don’t know how I lived before I met her.”

“You love her,” Peter spoke softly, and it wasn’t a question. 

“Deeply,” Maria agreed, her smile never wavering. 

Steve was silent, thinking over what Maria had said. It was strange to think that, even after barely more than a week, Steve could identify with some of what Maria was saying. The thought of going back to a life without the Winter Soldier and its crew —  _ ‘its Captain especially’ _ his traitorous heart provided — was close to unthinkable. Steve would not lie to himself. He knew now that he had no intention of leaving if he could help it. 

What troubled him the most was his position aboard the ship. What could he even offer? He was too small and ill-suited to manual labour to be a deckhand. He could not cook beyond a simple broth. If Steve were to stay, he would want to be useful. Even if that silly, hopeful part of him that wanted to pursue James got its way, and even if James reciprocated, Steve wanted to be more than just a captain’s conquest. 

The sound of a crash and shouting from above deck shocked everyone, and all eyes turned to the door. Peter was on his feet before any of them, but Maria grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. 

“I’ll go,” Steve spoke up before Peter could begin to argue with the stern head shake that Maria had directed at him. “Stay here.”

“I want to help!” Peter protested. Steve took a calming breath before he addressed Peter. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that the situation was getting fraught. 

“I need you to stay here,” Steve spoke, kind but firm. “Lucky and Maria need to be kept safe.” When it looked like Peter would continue to argue, Steve tried for a smile. “Clint would be hard enough to deal with if anything happened to Lucky. Do you really want to incur the wrath of the most fearsome warrior in Wakanda?” 

Peter looked back to Maria, who raised her eyebrow - mirth dancing in her eyes. With a soft huff, Peter’s shoulders slumped, and he gave Steve a soft half-smile. 

“Ok, but if you die out there, I shall be very angry with you.” 

Steve laughed, as did Maria, and he patted Peter’s shoulder. “I will endeavour to return with a head still upon my shoulders.” 

  
  


Steve emerged onto deck and took in the chaos around him. The wind was driving the rain and whipping up the waves so much that it was difficult to see more than a few paces ahead. When Steve heard a familiar voice moan with pain, his body turned as if it needed no input from his brain, and he rushed towards the sound. 

Thor was lying on the deck, one hand over his right eye. Sam was crouching over him, and Steve stopped just short of them - giving the quartermaster space. There were others watching on in fear, but most were too busy trying to keep the ship together. 

“Ok, Thor,” Sam’s voice was soothing, but there was a commanding tone in it designed to hold Thor’s focus, and it was working. “I need to take a look at that eye, alright? I need you to move your hand and let me see.” 

It didn’t look as though Thor was understanding Sam through his pain. Without thinking twice, Steve rushed to Thor’s side. He knelt next to Thor’s left shoulder and put a comforting hand to his head. 

“It will be ok,” Steve spoke low, dipping his head towards Thor’s ear. “We will take care of you. It’s ok. You are safe.” 

Sam gave Steve an appreciative glance as Thor began to respond to his words. Slowly, Thor’s left hand reached up, and Steve grabbed it without hesitation. Gritting his teeth, Thor moved his right hand away from his face. 

Steve fought himself not to make a sound. There was a piece of splintered mast sticking out of Thor’s eye, and Steve knew there would be no saving it. He looked to Sam for guidance, and was impressed to see that Sam was already getting to work without even a flinch. He ripped the trim of his soaked shirt and began to dab around the wound. Thor cried out in pain, and Steve squeezed the large man’s hand as hard as he could. 

“Need to get the dirt off,” Sam explained, although Steve wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. “Don’t want an infection. Eye won’t be the only thing we lose if that happens.” Sam was silent as he worked, and once he was finished cleaning the area, he took a deep breath that signalled nothing good. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, his gaze darting from Thor to Sam and then right back. 

Instead of answering Steve’s question, Sam gripped tight to Thor’s shoulder to get his attention. Thor’s remaining eye swivelled to Sam, whose countenance was grim. 

“I am sorry, friend.”

Thor swallowed thickly and nodded. Steve didn’t know what was going on.

“Do it.” Thor’s voice was hoarse as he spoke. Sam nodded once before turning his attention to Steve. 

“I need you to hold his head. Don’t let go no matter what, do you understand?”

With wide eyes, Steve nodded, and repositioned himself to bracket Thor’s head with his knees and pressed his weight down onto the quartermaster’s shoulders. Steve blanched when he saw Sam pull a blade out from his boot. 

“Steady,” Sam reminded and Steve gave a single jerk of his head. 

Thor looked up at Steve with his uninjured eye, and Steve tried his best to offer a reassuring smile. Thor’s hands were gripping Steve’s ankles where they splayed to the sides as he knelt. The grip tightened, becoming painful as Sam made the first cut into Thor’s eye, but Steve refused to show it. The deep ache of Thor’s squeezing was nothing compared to what Steve imagined Thor himself must be feeling. The heavy, pained breaths coming from Thor quickly morphed into moans and then outright screams as Sam did what needed to be done. Steve gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to show the fear he was feeling as he watched.

Sam made quick work of the wound, using precise incisions that would make a surgeon proud. Soon he was pressing a new piece of torn shirt fabric to Thor’s face. As Steve eased the pressure on Thor’s head and neck, Sam quickly retreated to the railing - throwing Thor’s ruined eye overboard. When he returned, he ran his hands over Thor to check for any further wounds. The large blond was whimpering with the residual pain, but there appeared to be no additional damage.

“Can you sit?” Sam asked, and Thor gave a small nod. With Steve and Sam helping from either side, Thor sat up. “Ok, good. We need to get you on your feet next. Bruce can seal up that wound. Are you ready?” 

The question was for Steve as much as it was for Thor, and Steve adjusted his stance in readiness for taking Thor’s weight. 

  
  
  


The storm raged for hours more after Steve had escorted Thor to the galley and Sam had disappeared back into the fray. 

Bruce had paled in much the same way as Steve when he saw what had happened. Still, he heated up a spoon until it was red and glowing, and dutifully pressed it to Thor’s now empty eye socket. The noise Thor made was not quite the scream of before, but it wasn’t a sound Steve ever wanted to hear again. 

As Thor lay on the long bench of the dining area, his head resting in Maria’s lap as she stroked his hair through fitful sleep, Steve took the opportunity to check in with Peter. They kept their conversation low and quiet as Steve asked Peter if he was ok, and Peter requested details of what had happened to Thor.

Steve gave Peter a sanitised version of events, before encouraging the young man to get some sleep. Peter obliged, and soon it was only Steve and Maria awake - Bruce having fallen asleep around the same time as Thor.

“How long do you think the storm will last?” Steve asked, voice hushed to avoid disturbing anyone. 

“It will pass,” Maria responded with a smile - her fingers still running through Thor’s hair. “No matter how bad or how long. Storms always pass.”


	12. Chapter 12

The sun was peeking over the horizon of the next morning by the time the storm calmed. 

Despite his injury, Thor was bright and alert after he slept. Everyone ventured up to survey the damage, and Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning for a specific face. 

Steve — followed closely by Peter — found James, Sam, Natasha and Clint sitting next to the helm. They were all leaning against each other, but Steve was grateful to note none appeared injured. They all looked exhausted, none more so than the two captains. 

“Tend to Natasha and Clint,” Steve told Peter quietly. “Make sure they get some sleep.” 

Peter nodded and rushed to the group. With a little coaxing, Peter was able to get Clint and Natasha to their feet and herd them both away towards the officers' quarters. Steve hung back until they were out of sight, before he turned his attention to the remaining pair. 

“Come along,” Steve drew their attention with his attempt at being stern, but in truth he was so relieved to see them unharmed that his expression was too gentle to back it up. “Both of you need to rest.”

Sam raised a tired eyebrow towards James, teasing him without words, and James chuckled softly as the two of them got to their feet. Steve led the way to the Captain’s quarters, continuously looking back to be sure both men were still ok. 

When they got inside, Steve locked the door behind them. He removed James and Sam’s coats in turn and hung them up while the two removed their own boots. Sam stepped towards the hammock, but was stopped by Steve’s hand on his arm. 

“Bed,” he instructed, and then encompassed James too by adding. “Both of you.”

It showed how much the storm had taken out of them that neither Sam nor James made any quips about Steve’s change of heart. With a tired, grateful smile, James led the way to the bed and Sam followed. Both were too exhausted to change their clothes before falling onto the bed and going to sleep. 

A new fullness formed in Steve’s chest as he watched over them.

~

The next four days of their voyage went by with no further incidents. Thor was recovering well, and everyone was in good spirits. 

The call of  _ “Land on the horizon” _ rang out at dawn on the fifth day. Steve rolled out of bed — James having risen early, as was his way. 

Steve found Sam at the bow of the ship, looking out towards the distant spot of land towards which they were headed. Sam turned his head and greeted Steve with a nod. They stood silently together for a moment, gazing at the horizon, before Steve looked and Sam with a small sigh. 

“I want to apologise,” Steve said, and Sam refocused his attention on the other man. “I treated you unfairly when you first boarded. I was unkind; you did not deserve that.” 

Sam smiled, absolving Steve with his response: “Jealousy is a powerful mistress. I won’t hold it against you.”

“James clearly loves you,” Steve continued. “It was wrong of me to get in the way of that.” 

With a soft hum of contemplation, Sam looked back to the rise and fall of the sea around them. “Love has a splendid way of seeping into all those fractured places in a heart. It transforms itself to what we need it to be. You can see it plain aboard this ship: Natasha and Bucky share a bond so deep it could never be replicated, and yet they have never even considered fucking. Barton, on the other hand, loves everyone freely with his body, but never promises more. Bucky and I have shared our bodies and our hearts, and yet both of us have always known our souls were meant for another. I found that in M’Baku. Bucky has yet to find the one for whom his soul burns.” 

Steve was so lost in thought at what Sam was saying, that he didn’t notice the former captain was now looking at him. The weight of Sam’s gaze became inescapable as the silence stretched between them, and Steve chanced a glance up to Sam’s face.

The taller man was wearing a small, knowing smile. Steve could feel himself blush, but he stubbornly remained silent. This earned an amused huff and a shake of Sam’s head. 

~

The island of Wakanda was like nothing Steve could ever have conceived of. The white sand of the beach at either side of the port gave way to the most intricate walkway Steve had ever seen. As everyone bustled around him, Steve took a moment to drink in the way the skyline of mountains seamlessly blended with the tall trees of the lower slopes, and on down to the plains below. It was like nothing Steve had ever seen before. 

His attention was drawn by a flash of red in the distance, and he watched as a cluster of warrior women in skintight red suits and carrying deadly looking spears approached the port. 

James stepped off the ship besides Steve, and the two exchanged shy smiles before James took the lead to meet the squadron. 

The sound of a young, excited voice screaming in a language Steve didn’t understand startled him, and he watched as a girl dressed in black broke through the wall of red women and flung herself at James. With a joyous laugh, James caught her effortlessly in his arms. 

“It means ‘White Wolf’,” Sam spoke from next to Steve, who tilted his head in acknowledgement - he was not surprised that his focus on James had allowed Sam to sneak up on him. There was a smile in Sam’s voice as he continued. “That’s Shuri, princess of Wakanda. She started calling Bucky the White Wolf after he saved her brother.”

“T’Challa; the King,” Steve remembered, and Sam made a soft noise of confirmation. With an arm across his shoulders, Sam pulled Steve along to meet the Princess and her guard. 

“Princess Shuri,” Sam greeted with a tip of his hat. Shuri was now back on her feet, although still holding on to Bucky’s hands, and she peered around his bulk to smile at Sam. 

“Samuel, so good to see you again. Are you excited for your wedding?” 

“Very much so.”

“M’Baku will be down from the mountain later today. He is going through the traditional Jabari pre-marriage rituals. Until then there is a room set up for you in the palace, and your wedding attire was finished this morning.” 

“Thank you,” Sam smiled. 

Steve watched as Shuri turned her attention back to James and said: “Your usual room is also prepared.”

“As ever you are too kind, Princess,” James was grinning as he turned his head towards Steve in a silent prompt to step forward. Steve did so, and Shuri’s eyes lit up as she noticed him. “This is Steve Rogers. He joined our crew last week, along with a few other new faces you will see.”

“It is wonderful to meet you, Steve,” Shuri was effortlessly graceful, and Steve gave a shallow bow on instinct. 

“Is T’Challa at the palace?” James asked, keeping the conversation going while Steve continued to take it all in. “I don’t see the Panther around, so I assume N’Jadaka is out hunting?”

Steve looked to Sam in confusion while Shuri and James continued to catch up. 

“N’Jadaka is T’Challa’s cousin,” Sam supplied. “Their fathers were brothers. When T’Challa became king, N’Jadaka took over as Captain of the Black Panther. He likes to be called Killmonger. Bucky likes to tease him by using his given name.” 

Steve laughed at that. The two turned their attention back to the conversation at hand when Shuri raised her voice. 

“Ayo and Okoye will assist with getting everyone settled. Natasha is more than capable of overseeing, and I know Maria will be overjoyed with the help.” Shuri shot a grin to Okoye, who was barely suppressing a smile of her own. Shuri turned back to James. “I want to get a look at this arm,” Shuri raised his arm for emphasis. “Come with me. Sam can come along too, and Steve if you would like.” Shuri’s knowing smirk was not lost on James, and a glance to Sam revealed a matching smirk. 

“By all means,” James told Shuri with a sigh. “Lead the way, your highness.”

Shuri squinted at James. Steve fathomed that the salutation was a tease. 

Everyone broke up according to Shuri’s orders, and Steve followed along with Sam behind James and Shuri as they headed towards the palace. 

~

Bucky relaxed back into the chair in Shuri’s workshop. His shirt was resting over the back of the chair, exposing his black metal arm to Shuri’s precise gaze. 

They had left Sam and Steve eating breakfast in the palace kitchens. The way Shuri had been looking between him and Steve was unnerving, but he felt more at home now that they were alone here. 

“How has it been working?” Shuri asked as she prepared her tools. 

“No problems. We rode through a bad storm on the way here, and it held up well.” 

Shuri nodded along, applying oil to the arm as Bucky spoke. 

“And Steve?” Shuri asked after a moment’s pause. “He seems nice.”

Bucky groaned, and Shuri didn’t hold back her laugh at his reaction. She didn’t press the matter, and they continued the maintenance in friendly silence. 

When Shuri was happy with how Bucky’s arm was operating, she put away her tools while he got up and redressed.

“Your arm is working as expected, but I am concerned about the muscles in your shoulder. I would like you to spend some time in the hot spas.” Bucky nodded his agreement, and he wasn’t wholly surprised when Shuri slyly added. “Take Steve with you. I’m sure he would appreciate a chance to… relax.” 

“I’m sure he would,” Bucky chuckled. “Thank you, Shuri.”

Shuri inclined her head as Bucky headed out of the workshop. 


	13. Chapter 13

Sam and M’Baku retreated to Sam’s room soon after M’Baku arrived. The leader of the Jabari had spared a moment to greet old friends and be introduced to newcomers, but it was clear for all to see that the two had eyes only for each other. 

It wasn’t long before everyone else was squared away, until only Steve and James remained—watching as the sun began to set outside the palace. 

“Shuri has recommended I take to the hot spring,” James spoke, suddenly nervous. “Would you care to join me?”

Steve’s eyes met James’ and he smiled. “I would love to, thank you James.”

It looked as if James was going to say something else, but instead he returned the smile and led the way towards the open air spa. 

~

The chill of the night air melted away when Steve slipped into the water. His clothes were in a pile in the nearby grass next to James’ own pile. The man in question was sitting across from Steve in the hot spring. 

James’ hair was damp from the steam and clung to his skin; head tilted up towards the starry night sky. Steve took a moment to drink in the sight. He didn’t look away when James’ gaze found his. 

“I want to kiss you,” Steve spoke before he lost his nerve. James’ shocked expression melted into a crooked smile. 

“So what’s stopping you?”

No sooner had the challenge been issued, than Steve was invading James’ space. He rested his hands on James’ chest and looked into his eyes. 

“You are not at all what I had expected when we first met,” Steve’s voice was a whisper. James rested his hands on Steve’s waist, allowing the smaller man a moment to collect his thoughts. “The thought of leaving you now is abhorrent to me. I would make your ship my home, if you would have me.”

“Of course,” James responded immediately. “Even if I did not love you, I would not send you away.” 

Steve went wide-eyed at James’ words. His voice quaked as he asked: “You love me?” 

James was about to respond, but he was stopped by Steve’s lips on his. He returned the kiss with fervor, pulling Steve tighter against him. They kissed passionately for countless moments - time stretching and contracting around them as if nothing else mattered but the two of them. Steve’s hands found their way into James’ hair and he smiled against the captain’s lips. They parted slowly, reluctantly, and James looked down at Steve. 

“Will you join me in my room?” James asked quietly, as if afraid to break the spell of the moment. “I find I sleep better when you are in my bed.” 

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Steve teased, but softened it with another quick kiss to James’ lips. 

James laughed and squeezed Steve into a hug for a second before drawing away to stand up and pull Steve with him out of the hot spring. 

~

Light filtered into the room, and James awoke to see that Steve was already awake. He was sitting in the large, comfortable bed they had been provided by Wakanda’s royal family, sketchbook open on his lap. James was about to sit up too, but Steve stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. 

“I’m almost done.”

“You’re drawing me?” James asked with a lopsided smile.

“I’ve been drawing you for weeks,” Steve replied with a mischievous smile. “Now that I know you love me as I love you, I don’t have to hide it anymore.” 

James dutifully remained still, but his smile widened. “You love me?” 

The repetition of Steve’s words from the night before made Steve’s eyes go soft. He turned the sketchbook so that James could see the picture. 

“It’s beautiful,” James murmured as his eyes scanned the page. 

“As is the subject,” Steve replied, and it was James’ turn to soften. His smile was helpless and fond as he pulled Steve in for a kiss. 

~

“Don’t be nervous,” Natasha muttered as she adjusted Sam’s wedding clothes. 

“I’m not nervous,” Sam returned, but his expression told another story. 

A crowd was gathering in the clearing where Sam and M’Baku were to be married. A waterfall that flowed from the mountains where the Jabari resided provided the backdrop - a symbol of the tribe’s connection to the rest of Wakanda as much as it was a beautiful setting for a wedding. 

M’Baku arrived, speaking with T’Challa who was to preside over the union. When he saw Sam standing with Natasha, M’Baku’s face lit up with joy as if they hadn’t just spent the night before together. 

“You see that look,” Natasha whispered in Sam’s ear. “If anything in this world is worth giving up the sea for, that is it.” 

“You’re right,” Sam agreed, his eyes not wavering from M’Baku as he spoke. 

  
  
  


The wedding was like a dream to Steve. He stood next to James as Sam and M’Baku pledged their lives to one another in both English and the language of Wakanda. Steve found himself leaning closer to James as the ceremony continued. By the time King T’Challa declared the union sanctified, Steve was propped against James’ chest with the captain’s arm around his shoulder. 

M’Baku swept Sam up in a joyful embrace and kissed him. The gathered crowd cheered and the exuberant sound of drums filled the clearing as the newlywed couple made their escape. 

~

The break of one week turned into ten days, yet it still seems like no time at all before they were preparing to make their way once more. Peter and Shuri had met shortly after the wedding, and had been inseparable since. Having someone of the same age to spend time with was a novelty for both of them. They said goodbye with a strange new handshake they had created between them. 

Peter was back on the ship, as were Natasha, Clint, and Thor - who was equipped with a new, metallic eye patch provided by Shuri. It needed no string to keep it in place, and Steve was still amazed at all that could be accomplished on this unassuming island. 

Steve waited at the gangplank. James had been called away for a private conversation with Maria. Steve couldn’t be sure how long it had been, but light sparked in his chest all the same when he saw James returning. 

“Where is Maria?” Steve asked, after pressing a kiss to James’ cheek and receiving a brief hug. 

“Maria will not be joining us,” James responded.

“She decided to stay with Okoye,” Steve smiled. “I’m happy for her.” 

“It would seem,” James continued with a wry smirk. “That our ship has an opening for a bookkeeper. I wonder who could fill such a void...”

Steve giggled as James pulled him close and walked them both up the gangplank. 

  
  


The Winter Soldier sailed away from Wakanda, sails billowing with following winds. Captain James Barnes stood at the helm; Steve Rogers at his side, and the infinite possibilities of the open ocean ahead.


End file.
